Harry pondered about what he would write that day
For the newspaper column that he wrote
He thought about his dead son and knew what he would say
The entire world now would take note.
Although I've never met Harry's son
I sincerely wish I had.
After all life's battles were waged and won.
Harry got first-prize for #1 dad.
Harry's son, Harry's son, the Great Promenade
Harry's son, Harry's son, the great price that he paid
He became a hero and reached out for the sun.
He was just like his dad... Harry's son, Harry's son.
His little boy who thought he could fly
Sounds amazingly like my own.
I don't know why my son didn't die
When he flew off the couch with a wooden spoon.
The scars of life are more than just stitches
And when it is all said and done
Sometimes the scars turn into great riches
Then our children become heroes and reach out for the sun.
Truly great children are not born that way
They follow the examples set for them
By their parents whose traits they display.
When fate's finished they turn into a shiny, bright gem.
Look up at that brilliant star in the sky-
Was that star there before?
No it wasn't—I'll tell you why:
When Harry's son finally reached life's final shore
The Universe expanded-
What a huge impact that this young man made-
He did all the things of him that were demanded.
Harry's son, Harry's son, the Great Promenade...
in the sky.
Susan Sparks's Other Poems
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