The first I saw your face was happy times.
Although my memory is clouded, drugged,
Your tiny visage through my mind – it climbs.
Despite my pain and fear its you I hugged.
Beginning red and blotched with wrinkles, lots.
An old man looked from baby’s eyes, with lack
Of care for worldly matters lost in thoughts
Aged wisdom lost when you do start to track.
Then youth and fun begin to over take
Imagination win out over age
Oh color, shape, and movement lessons make,
As you prepare to take on life’s great stage.
Now I can’t wait for you to grow and learn,
But then for this so little you I’ll yearn.
This post is part of the Poetry 101 series. It was supposed to be about face and alliterative. I got the face part. I tried for alliterative, but that’s why it’s late, I couldn’t do it.