Grew roses,
strawberries,
ferns and bamboo.
Made wooden dolls
from round-topped clothes-pegs,
drawing faces on.
Sketched for me
water-colour flowers; I remember
pink heath’s delicate bells.
When I had nightmares
sat with me into dawn,
telling stories.
At parties, played
comb-and-tissue
mouth organ;
declaimed with gestures
‘Abdul the Bulbul Emir’
or some Rabbie Burns.
On every family birthday
made an acrostic poem,
made an acrostic poem,
the person’s name down the side.
Laughed
sang
danced.
[Poem #105]
[Poem #105]
Cross-posted from my poetry blog, The Passionate Crone, from whence it is linked to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #309
Comments from original posting:
ReplyDeleteMary 3 July 2016 at 08:26
He sounds like a wonderful father, Rosemary. I like the idea that he made acrostic poems for birthdays. Anyone can BUY a birthday card, but it takes a special person to write an acrostic poem.
Sumana Roy 3 July 2016 at 15:06
what a delightful poem!...and "Bulbul" reminds me of my grandma(maternal) who used to call me Bulbul and sometimes Bulbuli and the name has stuck to me as my nickname ...in fact I'm Bulbuli to all my cousins, uncle and aunts :)
Anonymous 3 July 2016 at 16:46
Such wonderful memories... sounds like a great dad!
brudberg 3 July 2016 at 16:47
Oh I do love a father can also be a friend without conditions... To make toys instead of buying them, it sounds wonderful,
SuyashJ 3 July 2016 at 16:55
So delightful! Lovely tribute to your dad !
totomai 3 July 2016 at 17:40
Acrostics! They are very interesting to make. Lovely tribute you have here, Rosemary. I believe you and your father had a great time when you were still young.
Jae Rose 3 July 2016 at 17:57
Such sweet memories - each one seeming to sink into you - as the very best people do.
Sanaa Rizvi 3 July 2016 at 19:14
Oh Rosemary this is such a tender and heartfelt write.. especially adore the images where he "Sketched for me water-colour flowers; I remember pink heath’s delicate bells." Beautifully penned.
Lots of love,
Sanaa
Old Egg 3 July 2016 at 19:59
Each of our fathers sits comfortably in our memories for how he loved being our Dad, talking, teaching, playing with us and loving us just as we do with our own children. How touching this is Rosemary.
Magical Mystical Teacher 4 July 2016 at 00:20
What a marvelous tribute to your dad!
Sherry Blue Sky 4 July 2016 at 01:13
Such a lovely father! Love the acrostics!
gillena cox 4 July 2016 at 01:31
Thanks for sharing your beautiful memories Rosemary
Much love...
Donna@LivingFromHappiness 4 July 2016 at 01:39
Oh Rosemary what a special, special tribute to your dad.....his great love for you and life sings through your words, and touches my heart as it conjures up images of my dad too! Thank you!
Magaly Guerrero 4 July 2016 at 01:56
What a wonderful man... and what a miracle of a dad.
Kerry O'Connor 4 July 2016 at 02:54
Your list style poem works well for your subject.
Matthew Henningsen 4 July 2016 at 03:52
This truly is a portrait. A glimpse at a person, and a life. I really enjoyed this.
ninotaziz 4 July 2016 at 04:51
Rosemary
I know you are absolutely lucky.
For he
Laughed
sang
danced.
C.C. 4 July 2016 at 15:13
I love how personal this is..how your dad did these special things for YOU and you now hold them dear and close to your heart as meaningful reminders of how he loved and cared for you.
R.K. Garon 4 July 2016 at 22:41
Delightful... I forgot about the "tissue comb" kazoo :-)
ZQ
Wendy Bourke 5 July 2016 at 10:08
You have sketched this piece so tenderly. How lucky you are to have had such a father.
dsnake 17 July 2016 at 01:27
such sweet memories. sounds like a great dad!
liked the style of your poem. a list poem in 3-lined stanzas. :)