Treasure Island

Ruth Walters

(London, U.K.)

.........and the bus took us home


I saw him in the distance,
he looked so pale and old.
Of late the skin had thinned
and his eyes were not so bold.

I saw him in the distance,
and raced to catch him up
but I was still too slow
and soon ran out of puff.

He stopped just at the bus stop,
looking tired and frail.
Breathless I caught up with him
and took his arm with care.

'Hello dad', I spluttered
and kissed him on the cheek.
His skin felt paper thin,
and soft beneath my lips.

His eyes lit up to see me,
his worry lines relaxed,
then he smiled happily
and I smiled back.

The bus pulled up beside us,
we struggled to a seat.
I snuggled up to dear old dad,
who felt so good to me.

I chatted on quite merrily
‘til I noticed he was sleeping,
I tucked my hand right into his
and listened to him breathing.

Submitted: Friday, September 28, 2012
Edited: Friday, January 03, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

My dad died in 1980 when my oldest son was 3 and the youngest 11 months so they never really got to know him but for the short time they had him here, he was the best grandfather you could ever wish for. He was a very quiet man, who loved tinkering with cars and a master craftsman at tailoring but also the most friendly, mild, good humoured man you could ever wish to meet. We learn to live with loss but we never forget our loved ones.

Comments about this poem (.........and the bus took us home by Ruth Walters )

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  • Diana Rosser (9/30/2012 3:29:00 AM)

    How precious are these moments, these words will always be there to remind you of the feel of his hand in yours. (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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