I asked an old lady in the park if she had seen my little boy.
‘What does he look like?’ she replied.
‘Well,’ I answered, quite sincere—
‘He has brown eyes
And hair to match;
Too many curls for a little boy,
Combed to perfection every day;
His teeth are white as white can be—
A very tidy little man is he!
He wears a smartly pressed sailor suit
With little white shoes to match.’
— A perfect darling is my boy.’
‘No child like this I have seen,’ the lady did respond,
‘but a treasure you will find, just around that path.’
Around the garden path I went
And before me, a treasure my eyes beheld—
He had brown eyes
And hair to match,
A shock of curls in disarray,
Band-aid knees and soiled clothes—
What happened to my little boy?
At front, he had a missing tooth;
He was eating ice-cream from a cone,
His face aglow with a rainbow smile.
—’A perfect darling is my boy.’
© Chrissy Siggee
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED From my book: Glimpses of His Glory
Archived in: Poetry Mix