As far back as she can remember…whenever her memories stir…
her heroes came from the pages of children's books her dads would read to her.
When they read about knights in shining armor…about heroes brave and wise
about feats of strength and courage…she would listen…mesmerized.
When she grew a little older her heroes also grew
they transformed as she did…as heroes often do.
Yet she found as her heroes changed over time
into new champions…new Galahad's
the traits she admired in her heroes…
were the same traits she admired in her dads.
She found of all the heroes she admired…
all her heroes big and small
the most important heroes in her life…never changed at all.
They were the two men who read her children's books…
the ones she still can't wait to see
the ones who taught her everything
about what heroes ought to be.
And they are still her heroes…
her champions…her Galahads
and she is proud to call them heroes
but she prefers too call them dads.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem