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Dad

I long to rest my head
upon your knee
and speak with you,
naïve,
as many eons ago
I knew,
without a flicker of doubt,
safety drifted quietly
in pristine air
and beetles were black.

Your kindness flowed
as rippling brooks,
all the while
I rejoiced
in a fantasy world,
where villains bite the dust
and love is a closed circuit.

I still seek your image
from worlds so far away,
enough to feast my eyes,
uplift my heart,
so memory can wing me back,
a child again,
to sit atop
unfaltering towers.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I wrote this poem long ago, it's really sad irony, because my Dad was not, in the end, an unfaultering tower. Nobody is!
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

The system keeps telling me to add a new comment.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

I only wish I had the kind of relationship that a father and child should have and never did
you poem is so very tender

Our chat room is not only there for Thursday afternoon chat 3:30-4:30
but it is there and ready for all to use at anytime of day come often and hook up in conversation to those across the globe

Dear lynn, yes, my relationship with my Dad was good. It was he who taught me about toxic environments, because he'd read "Silent Spring" by Rachel Carson. He was a man before his time, he used to teach other farmers about the dangers of strong insecticides and fertilizers.
He had the good sense to send me to a small, rural school, so I also had indigenous little friends, so my present mindset comes from him.
Thanks for commenting, I'm sorry your relationship was not so good. Mine, with my Dad, ended rather abruptly, but that's another story.
Best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

not that i am one to air my stuff for all, however i admire the love and respect and trust you had for your father, mine was not so, not because he was bad but because his parents both passed away at his tender age of 5 so he was unwillingly brought up by his brother, my uncle, its not the same and i felt it as a child. he had no one to learn from look up too from, he felt a burden and of course was no ones fault as he was an orphan, hence was a person who was lost and drank a lot even though my mum was so wonderful. Gracy with this poem you have brought a lot out of me, so well written my dear. Ps dont tell a soul.

Thank you...Teddy

Dear Teddy, I'm so sorry about your father's tragedy at such a young age. Of course, that would certainly affect his own parentship, if that's a word... So it's understandable that he ended up drinking too much. I'm glad your mother was kind, I think that shows in the way you comment and write your poetry.
BTW, my own father lost his own dad at the tender age of 5. He then lost two older brothers during the war, and a sister who drowned under suspicious circumstances. Something about a failed relationship. So it was my granny who took to drinking. My Dad came to Argentina after the war and worked very hard to allow us to have a good education.
So we're telling our life stories. Thanks for sharing your sad experiences, of course I'll keep it all secret...all the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

no matter how far we are from each others words we are never far from eachother.

Thank you...Teddy

So true, Teddy, poetry brings people together. That's the joy of it. Keep safe. BTW, it snowed again last night, better said, it was a snowstorm with winds up to 100kms/hour. The workers out on the steppes and wide open areas had a bad time. There are volunteers who drive out, taking them food, warm clothes, blankets, etc. The Municipality also helps.
Today the sun was shining, so we took our usual walk, this time in the snow. We're in a fairly sheltered area, as regards the strong winds. Winter is long and beautiful this year, but no tourism...
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

a very nice write about your family, especially your dad. I have only good memories of my parents who thought me to be generous and respectful to others--if they deserve it. Otherwise, shun them like the plague. Worked well for me, lol. Great recollections, Gracy. Enjoyed. Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

I'm glad you also had a good relationship with your parents. It makes all the difference. Mine also taught me to take the good with the bad, so far I've managed fairly well, as you know.
Yes, keep away from mean, rude people...I try to, but when young I was naïve and married the wrong person.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

a son
a father
a grandfather to four
and was a son with a bag full siblings 13
and father to two
Now guess what I could be thinking
as a son about his father
a father to two daughters
and
as a grandfather to four of them
one each kind

Gracy Life moves on
with more love
as time passes on
all is left as a capsule as in memory

will they remember me

guess please
soft as I be

Hi again, lovedly. Thanks for your poetical comments. Not sure I understand all of them, but I get the gist of it.
"A capsule in our memory" is a wonderful expression. You're so right. What a large family you have, I lost count. Mine is quite small, as only my daughter survives of the three. Both boys died young. But I have two grandsons, not seen them since the pandemic. Perhaps we'll be making the Oxford vaccine here in Argentina, we have all the necessary laboratory stuff and good scientists. The government has made an agreement with Oxford in Britain. Hope it works!
Keep safe, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

as Chrys said the poem is very tender and reminisces about what your dad meant to you and how you miss him mountains...

raj (sublime_ocean)

Hi raj, thanks for coming around again. Yes, he was a good Dad, I miss him. He died long ago. I hope you also had a good relationship with your own father.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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