Face the sun.
We are as flowers I and my son
we have nectar on which we feed
most often we are just the one
he has his and I have my needs.
At play a rambunctious scallywag
he kicks the toes right off his shoes,
and when out shopping he will lag
behind dragging his coat among the leaves.
Our kisses no mere half bight's
but fully tied we are entwined,
my sunflower's face now so bright
a bell to bell and so we chime.
Those years have gone of course gone south
but we are flowers still, seed from one
should I lie then sew up my mouth
still, I turn my face towards the sun.