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For I will Praise My Father

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For I will praise my father

for his giant frame

that once dwarfed me

as an oak tree

dwarfs a flower;

and for his big hands,

sure and strong,

and for the blue

sea secret of his eyes;

and I will praise him again

for the work he did

and the back

he bowed to feed me;

and more for the songs

he never sang,

and those he kept

to kindle

the great dark.


And I will praise my father

for the patience he had

and for the skills he acquired

through his living;

and again and again

for his blustering heart,

as big and as wide as the wind;

and I will praise him also

for the counsel he kept,

and for the slow, secret wisdom

of his judgement;

but I will praise most of all

the love he had;

and for how

he found the strength

to endure.



◄ Campion

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Mon 18th Jun 2012 18:14

Lovely. The strength to endure... that last line says so much.

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Margaret Holbrook

Sun 17th Jun 2012 19:55

A great poem,loss takes a long time to get through, if at all, a lovely tribute.

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Yvonne Brunton

Sat 16th Jun 2012 18:42

I love your poem about your father. It is just how we should remember our parents - if we were amongst the lucky ones to have parents like this. Your picture of your father is a great tribute to him.Well done and thank you for sharing it with us. xx

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Laura Taylor

Fri 15th Jun 2012 10:19

Really sorry to hear about your dad. And you are excruciatingly honest about your writing about him, which can never be a bad thing.

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Abigail Wyatt

Fri 15th Jun 2012 09:29

Thank you for taking the time to read and for your comments. Laura, I know what you mean about the structure of this. It has a haunting familiarity for me too. Try as I might, though, I cannot identify the source of it. If you come up with any ideas, please let me know.

This is the third poem I have written since my father died and it is the first one I have been really happy with. Tomorrow will be only the third anniversary of his passing so I am tempted to conclude that, in the previous work, my grief and emotional turmoil somehow got in the way. Those pieces, it seems now, were less about him than my feelings of guilt and loss.

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Ann Foxglove

Fri 15th Jun 2012 07:29

A lovely poem Abigail - and a lovely tribute too.

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Laura Taylor

Thu 14th Jun 2012 16:18

I love this. I have been mulling over writing a poem about my dad, and have a bajillion notes written down that I have to sift through to pull out the poem.

I like the structure of this - what does it remind me of though?

These lines in particular stood out for me:

and again and again

for his blustering heart,

as big and as wide as the wind;

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M.C. Newberry

Thu 14th Jun 2012 15:57

Well said - and well put.

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