published poet Norwegian, but live in Portugal
My Daughter 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.
a blanket and a coffin (20/10/2017)
the talent (19/10/2017)
an accidental old man (18/10/2017)
the enigma (17/10/2017)
the saver (14/10/2017)
coffee unsweetened (13/10/2017)
old poet and red wine (13/10/2017)
street walker in Oslo (12/10/2017)
the mighty fall (11/10/2017)
- 2014 - 2015 (2)
Viewed 5802 times since 24 May 2012
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.