En garde, mon fils!

I had a verbal duel this morning
getting the kid out of his bed.
“Dad, you’re such a Giant Dick!”,
were the words he said.

He challenged me in his anger,
“Make a rhyme with that, dickhead!”
I thought a moment about my reply,
wondering where this morning led.

“They do not rhyme that much is true,
But poetry is more than that.
Consonance and meter are but a few
and I suspect that’s where it’s at.”

“No, son, Dad and Dick don’t rhyme,
but they do exhibit consonance
And they even become synonymous
when meeting sleepy Ass-son-once!”

At this point I fled the room
with my son not far behind
vowing to inflict my doom!
“Good Morning, Son! Rise and Shine!”