You challenged me to write a sonnet poem,
and so, I tell you what I'm thinking of;
seems fit I share it as from home you roam,
and I remember days we spent with love.
The times we worked together in the wood,
those moments I'll not easily forget.
Forever I would stretch them if I could,
but you must go, the course is yours to set.
Yet, you're no longer just my little boy,
whose music and deep faith had helped to grow;
the years of football wrought both pain and joy
and now a man, it's time to let you go.
I wish you well in everything you do,
Remember I am always here for you.
My son and I together landscaped an acre of woods into a walking trail, complete with 50 decoupaged poems nailed to the trees. Part of this project is pictured above. I called it my Garden of Verses. While he sustained a football injury that year, he was also part of a state championship team. The death of his younger brother also strongly played into his becoming a man and strengthened our bonding as mother and son, which did include a little humor along our path together. The following sort of sums this up:
I write my poems mostly just for fun
But they're so silly, said my teenage son
He said Try a sonnet.
I said, Son, I am on it!
So, here is my very first one.
Photo credit: Susan Larson