Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 27925
Posted: April 12th. 2007 2:01:41 PM
Age Group: Adult
Valiant Son of a Friend
"Fenrir, whose role in the final days was revealed through prophecy, was leashed by the gods with a magical fetter created by the dwarfs. He refused to let himself be bound until one of the gods agreed to place a hand in his mouth as a pledge of release. Only Tyr was brave enough to do this, and as the chain tightened around Fenrir, he sensed their deception and bit off the right hand of the god."
~Compliments of Wikipedia.com
Your hands mismatch like
the most perfect song I sing
in my mind for you
You’ve climbed in my lap
to rest your head on my chest
and I imagine
that you hear my heart
and thinking so while I stroke
your fragrant white hair
Just bathed and dove soft
like some babies I have sat
and you are twelve now
Wednesday you gained age
and somehow I felt pride too
you squirrelly boy, you
With your perfect hands,
mismatched to my thought of you
Fenrir - Odin’s Tyr
I wonder if I
will have a child sweet like you
all smiles, blue sky eyes
Author's Notes: I write this poem about a friend's son. The boy was born with one hand underdeveloped, but is just the sweetest little man. It's kind of a tribute poem to enjoying the company of children, but also a brief rumination of his left hand and a thought I had about it and my friend's religious choice, Ásatrú. His son is a true marvel; gotta love that kid.
Author's Location: Columbia, Missouri
More Poems: Rook has posted 61 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Rook - Click HERE
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