My Son

My Son
I tried to write a poem,
to describe what I see in you,
by my time was out of line,
and my rhyming book fell through.

I tried to sing a song,
about the glory that I see,
but my voice is cracked and broken,
and my fingering paltry.

I tried to find a flavor,
to match the gusto within you,
but I spilled the spice, once or thrice,
and the sauce was thick as glue.

I tried to paint a picture,
as brilliant as your eyes,
but the paint just wasn’t patient,
and the brush saw through my guise.

So I sit here at my keyboard,
staring at the screen,
knowing that the pixels,
will never capture what I mean.

Now, I’ve struggled with the words,
and I think I’ve thought of what to say,
You see my son, I love you,
today and every day.

Thora
3/14/2011

(He's doing a unit on poetry at school.)