Oh, Bittersweet the Memory

I will turn back the beautiful pages of my childhood life with a deep love that cuts my heart life a knife- Oh, bittersweet the memory. I am walking hand in hand with my father in a park, and in the distance is the sound of a dog bark; then, closer the song of a morning lark- Oh, bittersweet the memory. There in that park is a pond that glistens in the sun, where we gaze- then traverse the nearby woods for fun and because of this exploring my love of nature had begun. Oh, bittersweet the memory. Holding my hand, father walks me up steep steps of a church and the interior beauty we examine and search- Oh, bittersweet the memory. Along the paths we journeyed, we collected rocks and things, father would explain about feathers found from bird wings; and from curling vines we made finger rings. But, these reflections from the past also sorrow brings. Oh, bittersweet the memory. Because there came a day when I had to let go of his hand, and it was in that same church where I had to stand; after mother told me- father had gone to God's promised land. Oh, bittersweet the memory. _________________________ April 20, 2018 Poetry/Rhyme/Oh, Bittersweet the Memory Copyright Protected, ID 1014-511-01 All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym. Written for the contest, An Early Childhood Memory sponsor, Line Gauthier (Memory - Walking with father) Third Place