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.
|