At eighty-four, and far away,
You live your life in forward mode;
Not looking back, or feeling owed,
You’re still excited for your day.
There is so much of you in me:
The silliness, the sorrow, too,
The many things I learned from you;
But most of all, there’s poetry.
You’d read (as I played on the floor)
From Stevenson, or Edward Lear;
Your laughing voice, so strong and clear,
The rhythm, and the words, would soar —
Now cherished moments, every one.
These verses that I learned at play,
Still with me now, and so I say:
Thank you for poetry – Your Son
Inspired by this prompt.
To share is human:
Very fortunate son!
I didn’t understand a lot of it, but I couldn’t miss how much she loved it.
A very touching response. Here’s another prompt you might enjoy: http://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/07/15/best-preteen-memories/
I think I will try that prompt, it’s an interesting one. Thank you.
I hope you do.. Be sure to send me a link