For the first time my father called me "son"
The very word I ever longed to hear
Though I in lie this very word did shun
For never did it reach my coarse and youngish ear.
How strange did it sound from old and wrinkled jaw
One word, "son', to I his second born.
His ever present absence was his only flaw
But all was forgiven when I was reborn.
Your son I am, and evermore will be.
As you did for me, I'll tend to your needs
And eternally relate to your posterity
Your chivalrous acts and your gallant deeds.
How happy am I, though I'm not the only one,
That, out of many, you chose to call me Son.
[This message has been edited by Alicat (edited 11-26-1999).]