Four: Poem on Son’s Fourth Birthday

The vanishing year

Took heart at three

My wonderful boy

Unto all ages, shalt thou be


A father’s blessing

knows no bounds

His son’s tricks counting

duly astounds


One step closer

to the shore

where tossing waves

meet the crush of Four


I met my friends

upon that beach

at the selfsame age

and thus I teach:


Remember not

what the boogley man said

from darkening woods

in gurgling dread


But hear instead

the voice of calm

from the napping hour

in a sun god’s palm


Therein we know

the stillness of Him

as we loll our lifetimes

seeking things and beating tin


But someday soon

we’ll return here son

to the birthday boy

on his hill of fun


For four is near,

but never quite here

while the joy of three

is never done!

About Pete Mladineo

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