There Was A Boy

There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea

A little shy
And sad of eye

But very wise
Was he

 

My Little Grasshopper

The fierce warrior

His Messy Room

The reader

Braving a Canadian Winter

Making the most of the fleeting Canadian Summer

High School - Lisgar Collegiate Institute

Always thinking

My son, the published writer

Always writing

Always with a cup of coffee in his hand

Always exploring

Always following his dreams

But to me, he’ll always be the little dreamer, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders

That’s my son.  The poet, the writer, the musician, the philosopher, the historian, the Human Rights advocate.

He of the gentle heart and the sad eyes.

The voice of those whose voices are a frightened whisper in the night.

Happy birthday, my son.   Know that you’re always in my thoughts and in my heart.

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