Writer's Pantry at Poets & Storytellers United.
There are times we recall the subtle lessons
we learned by example from our parents. This
poem is one of those times.
Submitted March 1, 2020
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As we rode through summer breezes
The man of courage and I
He taught me still another lesson
As he had since I was just so high.
For the years had left their burden
And now he walked with a cane
And the body once strong and strapping
Now faltered and gave much pain.
I heard him not once complaining
As we passed fields of grain on our drive
But commenting on God’s bounty and sunshine
Saying, “It’s a good day to be alive”.
When I find I’m feeling sorry
For the problems and troubles I’ve had
I look to my model of courage
With humble gratitude…I love you, Dad.
A blog for the midnight epiphanies and idle thoughts of a hopeless wordaholic.
I'm loving this, Beverly. I would love to have one more ride with my grandfsther. His mouth was sometimes foul and we kids were recipient of his chewing tobacco juice smeary kisses. Even now I consider me to be his favorite.
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For you (paste it), my grandfather, all true,
ReplyDeletehttps://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2018/12/my-grandfather-and-i-prose-poem.html?m=1
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Thanks for sharing your memories of your grandpa. When we're gone, it isn't the "things" that matter, but the memories we've left in lives touched along the way.
DeleteOh yes, those memories are so important. Excellent words.
ReplyDeleteWith regards to your comment on my blog, if you came to the actual blog post, just keep scrolling down past everything and you get to the comments. If you came to the whole blog, the comments button is at the top of each post, next to the title.
Hope that's okay as the idea of the post is to act in conjunction with the sister site, keyudos, which has been set up to drive more traffic to the prompts through seeing, in one post, the whole nature of the prompts and the kind of feedback you can get.
The post will now be standard - 2 stories, the current affairs bits, and a final story. Hope this is okay for you.
Bev, I love (and feel) this so much. I, too, find myself using this technique (and thanking my grandmother for the strength). We are lucky, you and I, to be able to find solace (and energy) in these sorts of memories--especially these days, when things look so grim.
ReplyDeleteThe rhyme works so well in this one. It adds the poem a hint of prayer and spell.
Oh this is absolutely splendid
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday today Bev
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much love
beautiful memory... Well said/written
ReplyDeleteThank you. I have similar lovely memories of my Dad – who always had difficulty walking after an accident when he was 10, but who savoured life with gusto.
ReplyDeleteNice. My dad was a playful imp.
ReplyDeleteThis is incredibly poignant, Beverly.
ReplyDeleteIf only all dads were like that. Mine had a sporty upbringing and loved playing with us boys and our friends.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. This brought a tear to my eye.
ReplyDeleteOh! This is so endearing, Beverly. It's really good to have this point of reference; a model of courage. Really beautiful and touching tribute to your dad.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful tribute to your father!
ReplyDeleteSo heartwarming. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYes, heartwarming tribute!
ReplyDeleteDads and grandfathers are kind of like this, at least the good ones are (or were). Thank you for sharing as this sparked a few memories of my dad.
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