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WINGED ESCORT

So much morphine to block the pain...
I hope you dream of younger days
in your mind, strong running free again
instead of here in sterile haze.

Labored breathing, thanks cigarette,
heart monitor's monotonous beep;
a scene I never will forget
as dad approached his final sleep.

He gave me love of the outdoors;
now trapped here in this lifeless place.
He'd prefer duff, not polished floors
or fishing in a full tailrace.

For years I'll think to tell you tales
then realize that time is done;
no more describing hills and swales
or game seen at the set of sun.

Now the breaths become too slow.
Beeps are way too far apart
and you prepare at last to go
with final beat of tattered heart.

At last that never ending tone.
A pigeon flushes outside suddenly
and I'm left sitting here alone
aware that at last you have flown free

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Another attempt to do him justice, and failing
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

very powerful in its simplicity

just a few suggestions for rhythm's sake
'in your mind, strong running free again' (drop the ‘in’ – ‘your mind strong, running free again)

'Labored breathing, thank you cigarette' (‘thank you’ to 'thanks’)

'he'd prefer duff instead of polished floors' (‘to’ instead of ‘instead’)

'Now the breaths become too slow
beeps become too far apart' (using ‘become’ very close here - ?another word possible?)

'and I'm left sitting here alone ('and I sit here all alone’?)
aware that at last you've flown free' (aware at last you have flown free'?)

almost brought tears here stan - well done
i simply love the stanza
'For years I'll think to tell you tales
then realize that time is done
no more describing hills and swales
or game seen at the set of sun'

love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

I took some of your ideas but at least the 1st one would have changed what I mean to convey. One of these years I'll deal with this well in a poem. Thanks for coming by............stan

author comment

Just know that there in the rustle of the tree's you love and the sparkle of the mountain streams is a person that whispers to you of the love they will have forever, that they are free now to show you things and they will..
When you look at the aspens bending he will be there pushing them for you or a snowflake passing the window glinting out a memory he will be there.
Just learn to walk with him, I bet you see more things out there now that he is free, Yours with a love of all things, Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

I know he's there as are many who used to walk with me(using hunting as an excuse to be there lol). Indeed my next post tells of my company in sylvan rambles. Thanks for coming by..........stan

author comment

My Father was born in 1897 that's a hell of a long time ago.
He ran away from home three times to join his six brothers in the first world war.
They told him to go away the first two times then took him in as they were fed up with him turning up.
Seven of them went to that war one was killed in Jerusalem area and is buried there.
Dad was attacked by a bull on the farm in 1949 and spent a few months in hospital.
We lost him in 1963 after a hip operation he was only 66 and had just retired, someone that walks with me, always, Fathers are for looking up to and being with, he was wonderful, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

You know me. I try to tell it like it is. Thanks for coming by...............stan

author comment

Count your time with your father as a blessing. Mine passed away at 69 years. Thanks for taking the time to read and leave such kind comment............stan

author comment
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