For my foster son, who came to us from a broken home-1967
Four years ago we tensely scanned
The portal where you stood,
Because, we felt within our hearts
Your chances weren't too good.
But in the big ball game of life,
You played with scarce a balk;
Although you often did strike out,
Your goal was not to walk.
A special blend of fate and guts
And purpose all the way,
Has brought you through your senior year,
Right to this blessed day.
A graduate now, firm and erect,
You've crossed a vital door.
We are mighty proud, for in our book,
You've just gone four for four.
What lies ahead, God only knows,
But if someday we should
Be placing bets, we'll bet on you.
Your chances sure look good.
A few years later this young man received his
master's degree, from the college of his choice
And this piece sure looks good to me. A great analogy here. And, as well, a wonderful tribute to your foster son. And I’m sure he’s mighty proud of you for penning it. Against the odds, with your love and care, I’m happy that he made it. I yet wish him the best. 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your words are so good. You've shown life is for the living, and love is for the giving. You certainly must do both very well. This poem proves that. Your poems, and I must beleive your living, give a lot of hope to many. Thank you Joseph.