My son is a fantastic fellow.
At two years of age
he stands tall enough
to reach into my pants pockets
for gum and pennies.
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His Prince Valiant haircut
along with angelic facial features
adds to the confusion of mistaking him
for a little girl.
He can out-talk
out-walk
and out-wit
the best of us
on any given day.
His blue eyes could melt
an iceberg in Alaska
on a January morning.
He is greased lightning
in short pants
and a challenge
when it comes to having it his way.
He can ride a bike
chew gum
lick a lollipop
count one to ten
and push a Tonka truck
all at the same time.
He is joy
and happiness
laughter
and song
all wrapped in one.
He makes my day
Every day.
And when I am through
raising my voice
to be quiet
and calm down
he is still my boy.
He is My Son.
Linda Della Donna began writing at an early age. She scribbled in big sister’s school book. Her poem, “My Son
