My Heart on Paper.

Inspiration: This poem is for boys. Almost any mother could relate to the tumble of life with a teenage son; it’s a whirlwind! But a whirlwind of parenting I would not have missed for anything. Here is to all the teenage boys out there who with love, guidance and patience will grow into wonderful, responsible and all together fantastic men, husbands, fathers and sons!

Theme: Relationships / Parenting.

Poem for a Boy.

Get out of bed, you sleepy head,
The day has now begun-
Streaming in the window is the light of morning sun.
I shake him but he lies there still,
Still, like the living dead,
Snuggles down in the bed, 
Pulls the covers up over his head.

One call, two calls, and for a third time,
Out of bed now but for the bathroom has to stand in line-
Breakfast is quite an affair,
Cereal, milk, toast, jam, fruit, stuff everywhere.
How to fill this body growing ever so fast?
He's reached six foot and then gone past!

Off to dress in uniform- now the fun just starts,
Mum! Where's my socks?
Where's my tie and garters?
Mum! Where's a clean pair of jocks?
They're in the drawer where they're supposed to be,
Can't you even see? 
Aren't you big enough yet to dress yourself without me?

Mum, have you packed my lunch?
Of the next request I already have a hunch.
Mum, can you pack my bag?
Your lunch is packed and in your bag,
To pack your books is up to you.
Oh, mum, please, can you? I can't find my other shoe!

Look! Hurry up! You'll miss the bus!
Why every morning do we have to have such fuss?
Aww, Mum. Don't have a cow!
I need you to sign this piece of paper now.
I need some money and a note for an excursion on a boat.
The bag is ready.The lunch is packed.
Have you got your hat?

Bye, Mum. I love you. No time to stop and chat.
Flying out the gate - I'll miss the bus.  
I'm already five minutes late.
The morning rush is over -
And I feel like I've been done over,
Now he is safely out the door,
I sit in the sun and a fresh cuppa pour-
I take some time to recover,
And muse about the price I pay -
So he can call me mother. 

Poetry by Estelle M Deshon.©