Richard Netherland Cook


To David, My Son - Poem by Richard Netherland Cook

I pressed my nose up to the glass,
That surrounded your little form,
And held back the tears I knew would come,
Because of the alarm.

I prayed to God to save my child,
My first born and my son,
And soon our plight was over,
All was well and done.

The Doctor said, 'now take him home,
And give him lots of love',
Oh, we were so thankful,
For this miracle from above.

You little head was soft and tender,
And I wept because of joy,
And in silence thanked our God,
For saving our little boy.

Now your years have been a few,
Of you I am so proud,
And you are a boy, like other boys,
Quite noisey and quite loud.

There is a sweetness there within you,
Although you try to hide,
But I know that you do love me,
That you feel it deep inside.

I hope as you grow up,
Into manhood from a boy,
That you will give me many,
Years of happiness and joy.

I cannot hold you as I would,
A daughter as we part,
But you will take none the less,
A large portion of my heart.

Although you are a ripple,
In a vast and worldly sea,
You will always be my little boy,
And quite a son to me.

By
Richard Netherland Cook


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 14, 2011


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