DAD
Posted: Sun Apr 17, 2011 9:59 pm
Well, here goes, my first poem to be put on paper I'd like to share with you, and welcome all feedback, good or bad, I'm here to learn.It is simply called "Dad"and is a tribute to my late father.
DAD
He was in the midst of childhood, when his mother passed away,
He was sent off to an orphanage, where he was made to stay.
He was not much more than seven, given grown up jobs to do,
'Twas the time of the depression, and mealtimes they were few.
His father wrote him letters, maybe thrice in many years,
This was something that he questioned, shed in silence, many tears.
He would run away quiet often, tried to find the homeward track,
They would find him, spirit broken, they always took him back.
Then one day the doors did open, possessions he did lack,
Not much money in his pocket, just the clothes upon his back.
He tried his hand at many jobs, but often these would stall,
Went home mining with his father, when he heard his country call.
He recruited in the army, as did many of his kind,
He would often go AWOL, paid the price, but didn't mind.
It was round this time he met her, the one who'd share his life,
They joined hands and walked together,through much hardship, grief and strife.
He toiled to feed his family, working hard with calloused hands,
His spirit now rekindled, shared a joke with many friends.
And they talk of him with humour, they talk of him with praise,
They talk of him with fondness, when they tell of good old days.
When he lost his friend and partner, he thought his world would end,
The loneliness within him, had engulfed his spirit then.
His body it grew weary, he knew his time was nigh,
His family gathered 'round him, it was time to say goodbye.
He was in the midst of childhood, when his mother passed away,
But his time had come around now, he'd be seeing her today
As we stood around his graveside, the bugle it did blow,
And we knew he'd gone to heaven, 'cause that's where the best Dads go.
Sue Pearce ©
DAD
He was in the midst of childhood, when his mother passed away,
He was sent off to an orphanage, where he was made to stay.
He was not much more than seven, given grown up jobs to do,
'Twas the time of the depression, and mealtimes they were few.
His father wrote him letters, maybe thrice in many years,
This was something that he questioned, shed in silence, many tears.
He would run away quiet often, tried to find the homeward track,
They would find him, spirit broken, they always took him back.
Then one day the doors did open, possessions he did lack,
Not much money in his pocket, just the clothes upon his back.
He tried his hand at many jobs, but often these would stall,
Went home mining with his father, when he heard his country call.
He recruited in the army, as did many of his kind,
He would often go AWOL, paid the price, but didn't mind.
It was round this time he met her, the one who'd share his life,
They joined hands and walked together,through much hardship, grief and strife.
He toiled to feed his family, working hard with calloused hands,
His spirit now rekindled, shared a joke with many friends.
And they talk of him with humour, they talk of him with praise,
They talk of him with fondness, when they tell of good old days.
When he lost his friend and partner, he thought his world would end,
The loneliness within him, had engulfed his spirit then.
His body it grew weary, he knew his time was nigh,
His family gathered 'round him, it was time to say goodbye.
He was in the midst of childhood, when his mother passed away,
But his time had come around now, he'd be seeing her today
As we stood around his graveside, the bugle it did blow,
And we knew he'd gone to heaven, 'cause that's where the best Dads go.
Sue Pearce ©