Sons

Every day, these boyish grins,
And words bustling in banter,
Waiting in joys and chagrins,
Only for the right to enter,
And to play.

This young man will sit with me,
And share a place in his world,
Of starfields and places free,
A country where his flag unfurls,
In proud display.

This boy talks a joyful prattle,
His presence, both tough and tender,
And fear and pride will do battle,
Yet beloved, they do surrender,
'Tis love's sway.

One solitary on the shore,
One loquacious stories on,
Both wilt at what's in store,
In the onset of the dawn,
And the day.

Yet fraternal bonds grow deep,
Blood, a link that will not fail,
When they laugh, when they weep,
In jubilee or in dark travail,
It will pay.

Every moment the child recedes,
And features of the man appear,
Dreams and dreads, fertile seeds,
That grow in time, year unto year.
Where they stray.

Jonathan,
Benjamin,
Days like sand,
Slipping.