On Father's Day in twenty-two my glass I raise remembering you as though it's now 'most fifty years there's still a smile and still some tears so here's to you on Father's Day you're still my Pops in every day
One for Pops
48 years
Nineteenth February time after time and though 48 years, still etched in my mind that overcast day and the falling from grace from a knock at the door and a slap in the face snatched the father away from the boy of fifteen who in formative years was the worst kind of mean and though time has healed the wound is still raw so on this day every year he remembers and more as he still sees him clear in his mind's eye and knows that despite passing years the love never goes
For Pops
Look at me now Pops, I’m an older man now
I’m past sixty, the years have flown by
That slap in the face
has long turned to grace
yet still on this day I will cry
Nineteenth of February nineteen seventy-four
etched in my mind for all time
The day that you left
leaving family bereft
although all these years later we’re fine
Business Trip
The full moon rises,
Glistening like a fresh silver dollar
As Mother Earth lets off steam
And unbuttons her stifling collar
To feel the breeze of the Sun’s departure.
Eagerly I wait at the window
For my moon to come home,
So I can feel the breeze of his sigh
As he sits on his leathery black throne
And watches me with contentment from on high.
Father, Son, Stars, Loss (for Bobby)
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.
You’ll Never Be Alone (for Bobby)
MY REWARD
HAIKU: THE LOVE OF THE FATHER
The Dance
Remembering
amnesia
after the cremation
forgetting the name of his
favourite rose
~
image courtesy visuology.com
Pops
Memory’s wisdom smiles
Boto
Every Day, A Child
Just one dance Daddy
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
Raggedy man
For Poetry Challenge 2
He carries a whiff of diesel
Denim smeared, greasy to the touch
Beads of sweat cool on his sun baked face
Good shirts come home from the fields
With soft frayed holes and a scent of green
A sure thing to send Ma’s ire up
Added to the broken saucer and cup
The raggedy man,
A listener, a speaker,
Father mine,
A Quiet Man
A quiet man

A Quiet Man
He was a quiet man, he was a helpful caring man. Handsome in his youth a dashing man,a fighter for rights man. A union man, a fighting for the under dog man, a “I’ll do it if I can man” .
He met my Mum, a wooing man, a handsome flashing eyed Irishman. A black haired almost wild man, a stand up for what I am man. A good man to trust your life to and my Mum did, he was an out in the open man what see is what you get man nothing hid.
He worked hard he was a family man. A sturdy, bring home the wages man, a giver, comforter a lover man. A home maker man some one to carry the can man, a there until the end man.
He was a stern man, when you had done wrong, though he was a quick to praise man , happy to teach you a lessen in a song man. A teacher man,sometimes a preacher man an always there when it counted man.