If I could have your shoulder again,
I would soak it with my tears.
If I could have your lap again,
There I would lay my fears.
If I could hear your voice again,
I would stop still and listen.
If I could see your smile again,
With joy my world would glisten.
My love of music I got from you,
My passion for books was yours too.
Your gentleness lives on in my heart,
Nature and beauty a lovely part.
The trees you planted grow tall and strong,
The house you built weathers on and on.
Your presence I sense in the fragrant scene,
When you left, you became one with me.
I would soak it with my tears.
If I could have your lap again,
There I would lay my fears.
If I could hear your voice again,
I would stop still and listen.
If I could see your smile again,
With joy my world would glisten.
My love of music I got from you,
My passion for books was yours too.
Your gentleness lives on in my heart,
Nature and beauty a lovely part.
The trees you planted grow tall and strong,
The house you built weathers on and on.
Your presence I sense in the fragrant scene,
When you left, you became one with me.
I REALLY like the wistful wishfulness in the beginning of the poem -- wishing for his physical presence...
ReplyDeleteThe acknowledgement of the continuity of his essence through you in the middle...
And, at the end, the recognition of his continued presence, and complete, serene acceptance of his physical absence.
Straight-from-the-heart.
Beautifully simple.
Touching.
Sublime.
Warmest Regards,
Krish
This is is good. Really good :)
ReplyDeleteThis poem has oozing tenderness and benign brevity. I liked your concept of his continuum in you. You have deified the absence of your father with amazing simplicity....PGR
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