The Foundling Poem by Ferdinand L Quintos

By Shakespeare, I recall it,
a rose by any other name,
The Bard said, smells just as sweet,
a metaphor that has gained fame.

The thought flew me back to Davao,
to an acquaintance named Ciloy,
many many years before now,
who found a barely walking boy.

He held him hoping one would come,
one who it was that took him there,
within many hours and some
‘til time no more he could spare.

The boy not knowing who he was,
either the place where he came from,
Ciloy had no option, alas,
pitied the boy and brought him home.

Three days, same time, the boy he brought
back to the place where him he found,
no one came, the boy none sought,
Ciloy to home then turned around.

Ciloy then felt himself behooved
to rear the boy, make him his own,
with his dear wife likewise moved,
had him baptized with his name soon.

The boy grew up hale and strong,
Ciloy felt pride in his young man,
taught him all his trade before long,
well-known and trusted handyman.

One night the son up did not show
from an errand he went to run,
caused fear in Ciloy’s heart to grow,
as nation was martial law-run.

On the third night, some men fishing
noticed something that looked like buoy
in the bay up and down bobbing,
Ciloy went and found ‘twas his boy.

With broken heart, Ciloy buried
his dear son in a fitting gave,
the foundling on whom he doted
to whom his name with love he gave.

Ere living the grave, Ciloy said,
tears falling, “Rest in God’s place, son, ”
struggled to remain staid
and with courage he moved on.

The boy is sure now with the Lord,
for any boy by any name
is to Him more precious than gold,
kept under His Love’s lasting flame.