Can mere words ever be enough

for a son who taught me the art

of taking myself less seriously,

and made me a child again!

The son who filled my world

with fresh pots of paint

colours I never knew existed

bleeding into my grey refrain.

Those unforgettable drives,

longer swims, “the dark room”, getting wet 

in the rain, the songs we screamed on repeat

too much laughter to contain! 

Alas, the boy I don’t see everyday…

Whether you’re three or thirty

You’ll always be that little boy

Peering from under the curtain.

Now months pass without speaking, 

the years once more turn grey

but your laughter echoes in my ear 

as I turn to say, stay blessed always!