MY DAD

OK, so I always thought my mom was the more artistically gifted of my parents – she can draw pretty well – while my dad could appreciate music, poetry and nature more. But, having read my stuff and egging me on, he’s had a shot…

Happy to present six unedited ramblings from an enthusiastic, inspired 84-year old! The last one rocks it, methinks, so keep scrolling to the end!

SPRING HAS ARRIVED
THE GARDEN IS BLOSSOMING
THE BIRDS & BEES HAVE ARRIVED
HUMMING NEW MELODIES
CHIRPING NEW SONGS
FEASTING ON NECTAR
COME, JOIN THE PARTY
BECAUSE TODAY
THE FLOWERS ARE CELEBRATING
THEIR BETHROTAL TO FRAGRANCE

 

LEAF FLOATING ON STREAM
STRAW AS AN OAR
A DOVE FLYING OVERHEAD
NATURE SEEMS SO PEACEFUL
ALAS, THE THUD OF MY HEARTBEATS
DISTURBS THE TRANQUILITY

 

I STOLE THE MOONLIGHT
SO THAT MY BELOVED’S FACE COULD BEAM
I STOLE THE FRAGRANCE
SO THAT MY BELOVED COULD WAFT A HEADY SCENT

 

HOW DO I EXPRESS THE FEELINGS YOU EVOKE IN MY HEART?
STRIKE ME LIKE A THUNDERBOLT, I WOULD BE THE LIGHTNING ARRESTOR
COME TO ME AS A SLITHERING SNAKE, I WOULD BE THE CHARMER
AND IF AS A RAINCLOUD, I WOULD BE THE THIRSTING BIRD

 

I HAVE TOUCHED THE BOUNDARIES OF HAPPINESS
MY CUP OF JOY OVERFLOWETH
THE BIRD IN ME HAS GROWN WINGS
AND IS SOARING HEAVENWARDS
NOT WANTING TO RETURN TO ITS NEST

 

I HAVE FELT THE PAIN OF FLOWERS.
ON A STILL, DARK NIGHT
WANDERING ALONG A LONELY FOREST PATH
CAME A STRONG GUST OF WIND.
THERE LAY SCATTERED THE BUDS OF A CREEPER
WITHOUT EVEN HAVING COME TO BLOSSOM.
I COULD FEEL THE CREEPER WEEPING SILENTLY
MOURNING THE LOSS OF HER BUDS.
SHE HUGGED THE TREE TIGHT
LEST SHE TOO MIGHT MEET THE SAME FATE.
THE WIND NOW TURNED INTO A SOFT BREEZE
AND KISSED THE BUDS EVER SO GENTLY,
PERHAPS SEEKING FORGIVENESS.
AND A TEAR ROLLED DOWN MY CHEEK.
YES, I HAVE FELT THE PAIN OF FLOWERS.