My Son Poem by Dennis Lambert

Somewhere along the line
his ascension passed my decline:

His waistline narrowed and his chest expanded,
while my waistline grew, and the chest... well, it was standard!

When we arm wrestled and he beat me with ease, .
I suggested quickly: 'A game of chess, please.'

And when at chess he beat me, handily,
I said, 'ok, let's discuss Descartes' philosophy.

'I think, therefore I am, ' said he, 'now shall we talk physics or quantum theory? '
'Of course, ' i said, 'I'll count on toes and fingers silently.'

'Aha! ' I beamed now with delight, 'I have here my written poetry'
And he listened to the rhythm and to the rhyme and all my words at play,

And looked at me and said,
'Dad, I'd love you no matter what you had to say.'