I heard a song yesterday
so familiar to me
took me home to a place way back when,
the melody was strong
and I just sang along;
it took me back to my father again.
I remembered we'd sing
as we rode in the car
sometimes we would sing it again;
we made the choices
as we blended our voices;
I'd like to sing with my father again.
As we'd sing with each other
we'd harmonize, too
we'd end one and the next would begin;
I was but a boy
filled with such joy;
wish I could sing with my father again.
We'd sing accapella
sometimes trading parts
as everyone else would listen;
it was back in the day
we'd sing all the way;
be good to sing with my father again.
When I heard that song yesterday
I listened real close
and you won't believe what did happen;
I heard it so clear
my dad's voice in my ear;
and I was singing with my father again!
Comments
It's real
The way I see it, real poetry doesn't come from putting some rhymes and stanzas together in a specific style or metrical structure. The way I see it, true poems are created from emotion, imagination, and history, our own history. Often times we display our poetry without even picking up a pen, it is the emotion that we show which carries on with whoever hears our words. That's probably why I dislike criticizing peoples poems, because if I do, I feel like I have trampled on their soul, their history. What I just read here, is one of the many works in a world of true poetry. I see real poetry, because I see emotion, and I see your history. So I will not say that I love or hate it, but I shall always remember it and I can feel what you wanted your audience to feel.
I must say....
...that was very generously, and most eloquently stated; and I thank you. You're very right, you know. For had you hated it, it wouldn't have stood as long as you had most eloquently stated!
doc.
You know....
...this WAS a very emotional piece for me. You're right, again.
doc.