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February 04, 2005

My son at Eleven

I have sang to him
Many times, many seasons,
As days rushed us by, and his feet
Got too big for his hsoes,
We have sang along,
Banging our hands on the dashboard,
With smiles on our faces, bonding
Father and son

Used to hold him
Across my chest, his face
Burried on my shoulder,
His feet dangling to my side,
In dark rooms, hallways,
Moving him lightly, up and down,
As he found sleep, between the scent
Of my shirts, and my body's warmth
"You feel up my senses" , I would sing
Knowing how fleeting the moment,
How precious, my eyes would tear

At eleven,
He stands tall to my chin
I used to be his Christopher Robin,
He was my Pooh Bear, with
Hundred Acres Wood so near,
But , we wrestle these days,
Talk a lot more, tangle our arms,
Pushing each other, pawing his head
Trying to learn different ways
To know of each other
And he still kisses me on my lips
Telling me, He loves me,
Knowing how fleeting the moments would be
How precious, my eyes would tear

Posted by Idinraha at February 4, 2005 05:08 PM

Comments

how tender a sentiment for your son. a bond unbreakable as he grows up. to have that love between parent and child...something alot of us miss out on.

Posted by: metalnymph at February 4, 2005 09:21 PM

Precious indeed.

Posted by: cycho [TypeKey Profile Page] at February 4, 2005 11:35 PM

Knowing Amin, this is so sweet! You are so blessed with your family. Enjoy them as I know you do.....

Posted by: Maryam at February 6, 2005 10:01 PM

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