![]() Father ’n SonA Poem by Relic
One afternoon beneath a tree,
my age no more than twenty-three, 'pon Mary's supple, soft red cheek I placed a kiss that made me weak. In me, her charms endowed romance with ev'ry quick, flirtatious glance. At every turn of every stroll, a kiss from her I gladly stole. As years elapsed, we merged with fun; then, traded vows … we had a son. I saw our young man’s growing drive, bestowed by life to make men thrive. And then, one day at twenty-three, a girl he kissed beneath a tree. I need not share what follows next, it parallels my prior text. I only hope when we’ve grown old, our legacy will thus be told … “The girls we'd kissed beneath a tree, made all live very happily.”
© 2022 RelicAuthor's Note
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