My Father

Poem By Alistair Stewart

Memories of my Dad

His hands were the same
The marks and the lines
Tanned and hardened with years

I held them gently
As he once had held mine
He had no tears

‘O Danny Boy’ filled the room
and memories came back
But only to me
I could see in his eyes
His heart was empty
His fears had all gone
But so too had his life

I remembered the times
We sat by the fire
Seeing shapes in the embers

“If I go now you know
I will never be back”
I said ‘yes’ without raising my eyes

I secretly prayed
I could take it away
The worry that ravaged his mind
His heart was broken
Weighed down by his life
His fight was lost
His will to live gone

The road for him now
Was as straight as a dye
No cross-roads or forks
Just into the distance
But not far away
Not far

I cradled his fingers
As he once cradled mine
Over notes he had once loved to play

I loved him so much
So deep was the pain
My hands played piano
His hands and mine
His fingers on mine
I played the piano
It once made him smile

Comments about My Father

Sad but beautiful and eloquent remembrance of your Dad, Alistair. As nomad said, he must have been a fine man. After reading your poem I could visualize his image playing on a piano. Best Wishes Naseer
Beautiful Alistair. He must have been a fine man. N

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