Allen Beilschmidt Sr. Poet Free verse

A Poem of My Father

A father first
just another dead man now.

Dead well over forty years-
Dead at forty-four.

I, up in age now
have surpassed you
by some fifty years.

Oh the times of dread
that would come over me.
fear of death

              oh yes-
that haunting fear of death

What would I ask you now?

Did you love life more then death-

                                                most times?

Did you sit alone at night
                
                                                sometimes?
Did you dream beside 
a lonely lamp?

Most of all,
I guess, I'd ask

who were you dad?

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Gershon Wolf April 17, 2019 at 11:20 AM That last haunting question -- haunting. (It haunts me too, vis-à-vis my father, who's been gone almost 30 years now). ~ Gershon Allen Beilschmidt Sr. April 17, 2019 at 2:48 PM You certainly can relate, I'm sure

Caren Krutsinger April 17, 2019 at 1:39 AM Poignantly written, my friend. Allen Beilschmidt Sr. April 17, 2019 at 2:48 PM Thank you dear Caren

Kim Rodrigues April 16, 2019 at 9:27 PM Aww...chill bumps! My grandfather died when I was two and I often thought the same thing. Much later I learned he wrote poetry...elated! Allen Beilschmidt Sr. April 16, 2019 at 10:22 PM He wrote poetry. What a wonderful thing for a poet to learn.

W.A. Cholt April 16, 2019 at 5:20 PM A deep, touching poem. Nicely written. Allen Beilschmidt Sr. April 16, 2019 at 6:23 PM thank you W.A.