For Daddy

"Father does not see the mournful sad tears, that fall on a mossy stone; O, my broken heart weeps. And I recall running into your open arms a little girl innocent, you were the first man I loved, and will always be special; the older I get, the smarter you seem to have been back then, my anchor, my rock, my protector, my security, my Dad. Can I ever forget our walks hand-in-hand, in parks and woods, you taught me to love nature and to see with eyes open; hours we would sit on a park bench watching life drifting by, and I would ask you all kinds of silly little girl questions. Even in death you are my guiding light, my safe harbor, you left me suddenly I never got to say, I love you Dad; tearfully, I asked you to forgive me as I held your cold dead hand, if I hurt you sorry, I forgive you also for all harsh words. I remember bringing you hot cups of tea out to your workshop, sitting beside you at your dusty, cobwebby workbench; admiring your many rows and rows of tin cans and old bottles, you were always asking Mom for some kind of container. Mom said, you kept every nail, screw and bolt you ever met, and I would add- and every board too, and we would laugh; it was me who cleaned out the workshop, O, the stabbing pain, I lingered there for days touching things you touched. Dear LORD, please take care of my Daddy till I get to heaven, Dad, I brought you a dew-kissed yellow rose from my garden; of all the flowers Mother grew, you loved the yellow roses best, laying it gently down on your tomb, I walk away with pride. It was on that same workbench that I picked up your pencil, on the day of your death, I wrote a poem about my Daddy; and that day I left the child who was me behind and became of poet, an hour after your death in that workshop- I found my Muse. ____________________________________ December 31, 2015 Poetry/Kimo/Verse/Daddy Copyright Protected, ID 15-740-246-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. For the contest, Tell Us About Your Dad, sponsor, Judy Konos First Place