Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Soon a Tree

I wrote this poem in 2006 (I believe) about my 2-year-old son. It was written in the style of Robert Frost's poem, Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening (Iambic Tetrameter). It was about the time I took literature in college so I must have been trying it myself.

There are good reasons that I quake
It takes such effort to be fake
In front of my sweet little tot
I wish I could just be opaque

He has to learn and learn a lot
His happiness is what is sought
There is so much he seems to know
How do I do that which I ought?

What will he do? Where will he go?
How will he learn, mature, and grow?
The things he learns he gets from me
My influence begins to show

He's mine for now but will be free
Soon he won't fit upon my knee
He is a sapling soon a tree
He is a sapling soon a tree