Thirty-four

On a February day
thirty-four years ago
I remember quite well
the remains of the snow
as on a bright morning
I walked by the sea
so proud of the fact
of no longer ‘to be’
But actually now
a father at last
all those long months of waiting
now finally past
For there on that day
to Sally and me
the gift of a daughter
with our Emily

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He Rebuilds a Lost Sister

Lost in the supermarket
My special Lego creation
Lost somewhere between
Gummies and hot dogs.

Mommy looked all over
But can’t find it
It’s okay, I’ll build another.
I know I can build another one.

Yellow Butterfly (for Emma)

Every moment gives a gift
An opportunity to see
A yellow butterfly lands
On the pool deck to give
The daughter a smile
She seemed to have lost.

Yellow Butterfly (for Emma)

My Reflection

“Life doesn’t come with a Manual – it comes with a Mother

Life doesn’t come with Angels – it comes with a Daughter”

MY REWARD

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

wealth and fame
are won and lost
lovers
come and go
joy and sorrow
alternate

The Monster’s Return

My little daughter goes to sleep.
I hope that monster doesn’t creep
Back to her bed to say, “Hello!”
She tells me that it’s wicked, though.

A Job to Do

Dear Mama, how you doing? It’s kind of hectic here.
I am doing a real good job, though why ain’t always clear.
Mama don’t you worry; there’s nothing that I lack.
My platoon is the very best, and we’ve got each other’s back.

Nightlight

A whale made with clay,

Original, free-handed.

Blowhole, eyes, mouth,

Nightlight shines through.

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It shows the wear
Of Love and
Treasured memories,
Slowly decaying
But no velveteen rabbit transformation
Awaits,
Just the rag heap.

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I remember,
A googly faced lump
Perched upon my shoulder,
Tea parties and
Weddings,
Cuddles and
Passionate belief,

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Tea party
No longer a game
For two,
Pleasant company,
Cool spring breeze,
Watching the clouds

Just one dance Daddy

Image from artlimited

Poem by Wendy Norman (Seafarrwide)

When I was born did you feel possession as crucial as each breath you take
I was just a babe, a mere mortal, sins unknown yet to make
You wrapped me in cotton wool with a halo of gold
I was the reason for you to live were the stories untold

But did you witness how you tangled your noose
Around my neck I was like a puppet never set loose
Bid to do as you dreamed, never to fail but be your second chance
You steered my rudder with powerful force without a backward glance

Child

*

Child

Playful, free

Stretching, dancing, glowing

Thriving on nurturing support

Daughter

* ~*

Little Angel

My dear little angel,

I love you to death,

Make any wish playful,

I will grant it in a breath.

-10.11.13_09:59-

Whirling dervishes
Dressed in brown and gold
Dance alongside
Down the roads
I travel
To see
Her

To My Mom

This is a short poem I made for my mom, an advance greeting for mother’s day.

She’s in Guam while I’m in the Philippines 🙂

Precious

Via google Masterfil.com

Precious

A new addition to the family

Not by birth, not by adoption

A girl known since birth to us

The only daughter of our neighbour

 

You say you see me

(via Pinterest)

… But do you?

You say you see the girl with the glasses

The one always talking about books or reading them

You say you see the kind of person I am

But do you?

You see your daughter

I honestly don’t what you see

But do you really suppose it’s me?

You say you see your sister

Do you actually see  someone

Worth looking up to or someone

Who doesn’t seem to care?

My lustrous Moon

She carries My smile

She carries My heart

The brightest star ( my daughter)

I am sore from stretching
to be as tall
Tired of listening to your music
and dreaming ….
I should too

A Meal.

Shaking hands prepared this meal,
Shaking hands finish this meal.

Mother and Daughter
Eat in hushed silence
Mother and Daughter
A suspense, turbulent.

Astounding Assemblage

Astounding Science Fiction, October 1953 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was so smooth to the touch
built with talent , patience and such
a family prize , passed down with pride
it was sleek , fast , a dream ride
astounding assemblage indeed
had every thing our baby needs
this carriage was a century old
smoothly down streets it rolled
the time will come sooner or later
I wait for the day we pass it to daughter.

This poem was written for a challenge , Anne has a challenge going every week . Please stop by and play along , you may find this poetry challenge here