Oh, Bittersweet the Memory

I will turn back the beautiful pages of my childhood life with a deep love that cuts my heart like a knife- 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- 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. Holding my hand, father walks me up steep steps of a church and an interior beautiful we examine and search- 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. 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 1091-905-01 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.