Words.unwritten
Jun 03, 2022
This poem is part of the challenge:

Neopoet Random Challenge # 16

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Challenge #16 my father

So many memories of my lovely dad
How he brought us up strong with the little he had
How he loved my mum and she loved him back
Our random trips and the daft things he'd pack
Cream soda floats and late night TV
A smile on his face, mum's hand on his knee
He'd play his guitar we would all sing along
Tossing a coin to pick the next song
He loved chocolate and coffee and poetry and art
So much intelligence and such a pure heart
Right up until he was no longer able
He'd sit beside me with his pen at the table
He taught me to write and express how I feel
To find comfort in words and make stories seem real
Now every time I pick up my pen
It's like he's sat down beside me again
I really miss him and his silly ways his laughter, his voice
His advice and dad days
I miss his boots at the door and his chair in its place
I miss his hugs, and the smile on his face
He kept that smile right til the end
He wasn't just my dad
He was My very best friend.

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Not actively editing

About the Author

Country/Region: West Yorkshire

Favorite Poets: Byron

More from this author

Comments

Candlewitch

it is obvious that there was a special bond between you and your dad. I hope his passing was peaceful and easy on the both of you. now you carry him with you in your mind and heart. this is a very nice tribute to your dad!

*hugs, Cat

W

Thanks cat . Lost him to cancer 3 years ago this month ...it was hard watching the cancer take every part of who he was away ...but he kept his high spirits and bright side of life mantra kept him smiling throughout...I miss him dearly...but try and do things that would make him proud and live my life happy as that's what he would want for me I've made a lot of changes in my life since his passing walked away from things I should have done a long time ago ..so hopefully he would be x

Jackweb

 A poem is one thing on paper, another in the ear, and still another in the mouth.  Experience a poem in all its ways of transmission. When you read a poem out loud, you start to feel the built-in rhythm and the effect other sound devices (such as alliteration, consonance, assonance, etc) have on the pacing of each line.  Experiencing these when reading aloud will inform how you use them in your writing.

Candlewitch

I went to an on-line dictionary to look up stanzas. her is what I found:

noun Prosody.
an arrangement of a certain number of lines, usually four or more, sometimes having a fixed length, meter, or rhyme scheme, forming a division of a poem. this an example:

So many memories of my lovely dad
How he brought us up strong with the little he had
How he loved my mum and she loved him back
Our random trips and the daft things he'd pack

Cream soda floats and late night TV
A smile on his face, mum's hand on his knee
He'd play his guitar we would all sing along
Tossing a coin to pick the next song

and so on...

*hugs, Cat

Rosewood Apothecary

I often write for cathartic purposes. I’m sensing that here in this work. I can say that I get really good picture of how the events you describe transpired. You’ve managed to attach emotion to the words that is pretty specific. It definitely makes me feel a certain way; it feels a lot like home or maybe a childhood friend’s home. Either way nice job.

Tim