The Bright Son - A Vivid Memory

The day he was put in my hands,

There was nothing else that I could see

No pristine or virtuous a joy

Like this could there ever be.

His big sparkling eyes, his lustrous smile,

His delicate golden fur, and his amiable style,

Leashed my heart to his.

I knew, he may not be my son by birth,

But he would be mine by hearth.

I stroked him, as he lay on my lap,

I kissed him as he laid still.

I fed him, nursed him are cared for him,

Whenever he was down with a chill.

In his dark brown eyes,

Shinning with joy..

He may not be my son by birth,

But in his eyes I could see the girth.

The first time he barked

And everytime he pranced,

My heart skipped a beat.

His suave and subtle pranks,

His angelic and naive expression of thanks,

Made me applaud and marvel at his feat.

He may not be my son by birth,

But my heart was intrigued

by his innocent mirth.

As he lay in his peaceful slumber,

I wept by his side,

My palms and knees a burnished umber.

As he lay quietly in his grave

He made me proud and august

For even in his death,

he was valiant and brave.

He may not be my son by birth,

But he was mine as he went into the earth.

There may be so many others,

but he was inimitable and singular.

So convivial & upbeat, so ardent & faithful.

He may not be my son by birth,

But he is even more precious and adorable

Than the one by birth!