At the Recital

Utah Jay By Utah Jay, 2nd Jul 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

My Father was 58 when I was born. He came from a different place, being born in 1897, than I did. I had to learn how to do things differently than my Father did. I had to learn how to show my love.

At the Recital

At the Recital

My Father,
God bless his soul
Never took time to teach
The methodology
Of mitt and catch.
Or how to throw
That perfect pitch,
Nor did he cheer
From the stands,
Or listen to a note
At the school recitals.

Not that he had no love mind you,
But that he came
From a different time and place
Where children, like he was
Were meant to work,
To be seen and not heard.

When I finally took my seat
In the darkened auditorium
A day had passed
Without a pillows worth of sleep
For him, now wondering where I was,
But when at long last
It was his turn to speak
I noticed his nervous stare
And how, when our eyes touched,
His little face lit
With a smile so bright
The whole of the room
Glowed with a new light
And I knew he had seen
What is always ours to share- - -Someone who cares.

It is times like these
When we must learn
To be so careful
Of falling dreams,
Falling dreams
Are big and full
And can crush
A little heart
Like his.



Dream Come True, Dreams, Grandchildren, Grandpa, Love, Loved

Meet the author

author avatar Utah Jay
I have been writing since the beginning of time it seems, not because I want to write, but because I have too. My favorite form of writing is poetry, all kinds and types of poetry.

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author avatar cnwriter..carolina
3rd Jul 2014 (#)

nice~ an sure his heart was big and full of love...

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