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My Fathers Eyes
Francie Lynch ( / Monaghan, Ireland)

My Fathers Eyes

I remember very little, of when I was young,
I recall even less, of a special someone, who I am told,
was so proud of me and so boastful, 'I had his eyes'...
I was born, on a first Spring day, I was his 4th, but he could not stay.
He was a soldier, Brave and Strong, he went away, to Vietnam.
I was said to be, the accidental one, that now keeps my aging mother,
young and strong.
My Father was an ARMY man, he wore black boots, and camo pants.
I remember a chair, in the living room, a christmas tree and a bouncing knee. I held a reindeer, in my small grip, his name was 'Rudolph', and as he sang the song, I knew that my special reindeer was the subject, and tried to sing along.
I smell something sweet now in the air, I see a pipe, and hands with hair. I do not know, that soon he will leave, go back to war, to keep our peace. I sit at his feet, on the kitchen floor. His pants legs are up, his combat boots exposed. I am only 2, but he tells me with such pride, please tie my laces, my sweet child.
I bow and know, the long black strings, mom picks me up, father grabs his things. I sit on her hip at the kitchen door, and wave goodbye, to this unknown man whom I adore.
He somewhat trips, as he walks, for he has left, his boot laces in knots.
That departing figure and what else I write, is all I remember of, what may have been only one day or a night.
My Father died when I was 3. My mother was BAKING in the kitchen, something very SPECIAL for me.
The doorbell rang, I followed mom, she opened the door, and she went right down.
I saw some men, that looked somewhat like, that ARMY man, who was my KNIGHT, but mother saw a different view, she cried and sobbed, one man cried too.
My father died, on a first Spring day. It was my 3rd birthday that he went away. I wish I could remember more, about his face, his hands his lure.
I listen to what others speak, mostly good, always deep. I hold onto that sweet sweet smell, of tobacco smoke and if I try hard, I can still see his stare. I wear upon my feet today and most, black combat boots, but now I boast, they are tied, not knotted or loose.
I walk straight and tall, I have almost reached his golden age,
I try to recall, the more I age, but just these memories I have,
And one other thing, I have his eyes... MY EYES ARE BLUE

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 17

Comments (17)

And still, in that tent or Uber taxi A child is born to change all this...fine
I don't know destitute. I could use the bathrooms In McDonalds, If I eat there- - Very nicely has been composed
Yes yes yes its true, This is a great poem, A revelation
True! Each child brings new hopes for humanity, endless new possibilities.
Hats off to the flight of imagery that has inked this thought provoking brilliant poem. Heartiest Congrats for that as also on it's' selection as Poem of the Day.
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