Norwegian, but live in Portugal
45 she was, but I loved her madly, she became
pregnant, I know a birth at that age can be
difficult, but I was delighted at last I my fiftyish
year I was going to be a father.
My daughter, for some reason I thought of
my child as a girl, would have the best education
so she could be free and marry for love and not
out of economic necessity.
What fool I was my lover a fitness fanatic
feared she would look middle aged if she had
our child and terminated. I cried when I knew
and could not bear to see her again.
I often dream of my daughter see her going to
school for the first time and she would know
I was just outside should she need me...And now
that I’m old I miss her like an ache in my heart.
And I think when I die will she come out of my
dreams, be real, tell me I was the best dad in
the world and hold my hands as we together
fly where no malice and pride cannot survive?
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
the business of cuisine (21/12/2014)
good intention (20/12/2014)
the pleasure of old age (20/12/2014)
verse maker (19/12/2014)
A December afternoon (17/12/2014)
Olsen's america (16/12/2014)
washing machine (15/12/2014)
a new spoken poetry (14/12/2014)
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