Proud Papa
In the throng of decisions vex
Smile little one, and have the awkward
Way we see the seldom, make love we expect

Hopefully yours...
Three of commotion, made a reaching star
Terms of privilege, the shape of furthering love's adore
When a decency's same, smiles, to know why you are...

Two of a salt, that has bespoken the truth?
Simple light's to a sojourning need, coming to a point
Of when harrowed seasons appear for your couth
Look hard and make the right choice, so we see the joy, included

Remember me one night, when the austere have cooled and supposed ire's to be freer
Memory served the cold behalf, threat of heed of keeping sovereignty's flame...
With but a chaste live in the sense we make, a seer
With one voice to still, the coming house of a name?

Portion, excellence, and resolve
With pouting lips and the common trace of beauty, left to agitate?
And the order of love, in the spare way we find hindrance, a given
Moment of history in the mend of sensitivity, where a babe has fretted...

Proud Papa, with a faster bag and happy tune to play...
The conscience of irony, that set you to such a risen right
Has been the culture of night, into day with a reasoned say
Where a lived same of kisses and hugs more, there is a wishes might...