Two frowns of father and son
The other’s quiet concentration.
Or hints or handfuls
From the bushes a butterfly
At that scalding-bright sky-jewel
Two happy grins exploding.
These two mirrors of mirth,

Your mother, she took you
To be fostered afar
She longed that others might love you
So a different tribe teaches you.
Far from the hall of your father,
So readily it reaches for you
His boy. He is by you

Learn from his life,
He was wiggly and wild.
As long and as lanky
He can tell you what treasures
Answers he’ll offer
He will guide you in growing
Look at the face of your father,
Look at the smile of your son,
Look on your father’s stature,

each one reflecting
Hoping to catch traces
of that which they hunt.
finally bursts.
their scowls quickly vanish,
What great pleasure to see
one who made the other,

when you were tiny still
by strange-mannered friends.
as others have loved her,
But though you’ve been taken
his heart is never far.
it cannot rest without you,
for his heart beats within you.

he was like you when young,
It’s no wonder you are
and loving as he.
and talents you’ll find.
when others cannot.
into a good man.
you’ll see your future.
you’ll see your past self.
you’ll learn to stand.

Isolde de Lengadoc once lived in the Kingdom of Northshield, but she now lives in the Kingdom of Ealdormere. Her bardic website is The Well-Tempered Harpy.

Documentation for this piece is here.