Remembering Father
I want to turn back the pages of life,
back, back, back to when I was a young girl;
before life had stabbed my heart with a knife,
when I had such joy and would whirl and twirl.
Father would take me for walks in the park,
we sat talking on our wood bench for hours;
remember- how we both had carved our mark,
and I would pick you some bright wild flowers.
The bench where we sat and talked is still there,
and when I am missing you I go sit to weep;
"take care of my dad, God," is my prayer,
for he has left for his eternal sleep.
I need to just close my eyes to see you,
but in my reverie- I never grew.
_______________________
August 20, 2018
Poetry/Sonnet/Remember, Father
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1053-650-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, New Sonnets Only
sponsor, Emile Pinet
Third Place
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