Sambo

I wrote this in 2007. After coming home full-time, I was amazed and deeply moved at how much the relationship between me and Sam (then two years old) had improved beyond all measure. The bonding that you would expect between a mother and her baby took a little longer with us, and when it finally happened it took my breath away. I've been in love with my little Sambo ever since, if you can't tell from the poem! : )

Sambo

There is a peculiar creature
Who lives in my own house.
A quixotic imp with such a zest
Many rivers cannot douse.

This wonder of mine,
This tale of mine,
Is my special secret,
This secret of all time.

You see, I have a Sambo,
As marvelous as can be,
Like the legends told by Scheherezade,
A Sambo is a sight to see.

What? You know not a Sambo?
You know a Sam, a Sammy, and a Samuel, too,
But not the legendary Sambo?
Then come close and let me tell you.

A Sambo, you must know first,
Has a spirit, flaming tall
You’d think he was a giant,
Standing astride the general sprawl.

He is brave, oh fearsomely brave,
And his wrath is awful to behold,
His eyes narrowed in righteous fury,
The king’s right makes him bold.

This giant among men is not all war,
He is a music Muse, too.
Wooing hearts with dance and song
And laughter, ‘til you’re blue.

And just when you think you’ve got the measure
Of this extraordinary giant of mine,
I must mold this image even further,
And force you to redesign.

You see, this worthy, high-sounding giant,
He loves to play and tease,
He tickles, squeals, runs and hides,
And looks behind to see if he pleased.

I can’t forget to tell you,
He’s inquisitive, canny, and swift.
His mind will untie any knot you bind,
And he’ll do it in very short shrift.

So what think you now
Of this secret of mine,
This Sambo in my house,
This wonder of body and mind?

Think you a fantasy,
A figment in my brain?
An impossible glue of elements,
Not practically explained?

Let me tell you, then,
You know not what you say.
For my Sambo is real,
And I can prove it. Listen, I pray:

For my Sambo is a little boy,
Tall in heart and mind,
But small in fingers and nose,
And tiny in feet and behind.

He is a man in the making,
A king for miles around.
But tonight he’ll sleep in my arms,
My Sambo, a wonder unbound.