Words for my son – a poem

My son is thirteen going on fourteen. This is a very interesting time for both of us but, probably, more so for me as I am having to learn how to loosen up and let go. This is not an easy thing for me to do as I am very controlling and like everything done my way. I often joke with my friends at work and say that I am like the Queen of Hearts – all ways are my way. There are so my arguments at home now that I sometimes feel that there is no real communication at all and I am not sure if my son knows that I love him madly. It is because I love him so much that I want the best for him and want him to benefit from my own experiences. I am gradually coming to realise that even if I can get him to avoid the pitfalls of my life, he will make a whole fresh crop of his own mistakes. That is how we learn and grow. In order to ensure that he does no that I love him, I decided to write this poem as a tribute to my Gregory.

Words for my son

Words flow fluidly from my mind to pen, they come very easily to me;

So why is it when I speak to you, I just cannot seem to make you see;

That I love you, my most special boy, I am your number one fan;

It is a joyous journey to watch you becoming an extraordinary man;

You have an amazing mind, you’re like an adult when we engage;

It makes it hard to understand the teenage turmoil that within you must rage;

You make us smile when you sit laughing at some amusing situation in a book;

Although I can get really cross when you give me your uncooperative look;

My own teenage years are a fairly distant memory, but I do remember;

The emotional highs and lows, like the violent thunderstorms of December;

An adventurous and exploratory time in your life, bursting with so much possibility;

To take advantage, you need to control body and mind and take responsibility;

You are exceptionally empathetic and kind, you always give to others;

I take delight when I see you treating everyone as your sisters and brothers.

By Robbie Cheadle

I tried to write this as a sonnet, just by the way. I am “assisting” Greg, in a very undemanding and low key way, in studying for his English examination next week. He [read that as we] are learning all about the different formats for poetry [I have forgotten a lot]. Anyhow, Greg says that this is not a sonnet as it isn’t in the correct format of a b, a b and a rhyming couplet at the end. I say that this is a modern sonnet [smile] and in a modern sonnet you can do what you like.

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