Goodnight, Dad

I remember your strong hands and your gentle soul

Your quiet strength and your infinite control

The way you were ready to catch me, should I fall

with no apparent effort at all

 

the way you would rewind your favourite scene

so it would come to life again on the screen

the heavenly taste of your chocolate cake

that you would always give, and rarely take

 

the nights we spent on a computer game

the fact, at the root, we are one and the same

the way you would listen as I rattled on…and on

how you chased my tears until they were gone

 

your easy smile and the deep rumble of your voice

your pride in me and how you would rejoice

in all my achievements, big or small

I remember it, Dad, I remember it all

***

Thanks for indulging me in this. I rarely write poetry, unless I’m forced, but I felt a strong urge to write this. My Dad died ten years ago today and I wanted to shake off the sad a little.

Mel

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9 thoughts on “Goodnight, Dad

    1. Thank you. What a lovely thing to say. He was such a wonderful man, so it means a lot that the poem touches on how much he meant to me. He was a gentle giant, and though it’s hard, particularly today, my memories of him are precious.

      1. That means a lot. I am learning, and I find that when I just let things pour out, instead of over-thinking (as I am want to do with poetry), I do a better job. I’m also getting better at planning. I wrote down all the things I loved about him and it helped in more ways than one!

        Anyway. Thank you. Not only for your support, but for your kind words.

      2. Absolutely. Just as with any form of writing, it’s simply a case of finding what works for us as individuals and trusting our instincts.

        You’re very welcome. It’s a beautiful poem πŸ™‚

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