~ Father Always Said…~
Father always said I was born a poet –
Shared Shakespeare’s birthday
Though centuries apart
He said my cry was more like a song
Or a tale waiting to be told
And when I was silent
Eyes moving about
Observing my environment
He was certain had I the ability,
Tiny hands would grip quill
Dip tip in black ink darkness
To lighten the world
Father always said I was born a poet-
Fifty-three years later words born
Now borne, on pinions of a promising review
If only to prove the old mans words true.
My Father, long retired farmer and Steel Worker, was a poet himself, sharing Irish diddies he learned as a child from his family members, he also enjoyed musicals, his favorite being “Phantom of the Opera”. Now 79 and frail of health, I never witnessed just pride when I handed him my latest chapbook “Unfolding Hearts” dedicated to his wife of 56 years; my Mother. Her passing, left him empty, lost. It pleases me, when I walk in the room and he is holding or reading the chapbook; it helps to fill the void.
It is my intention to someday publish his works, which are sure to astonish!