My father sits on the garden bench-
Near to you, near on the river bank
He reads newspapers, are hottest, new...
Looks to the sky- coloured, as your blouse
so have grown old, so father's news...
He wished to repeat anew for me lullaby...
But dad started song - sweet swing as blues.
Madame, you have gone by obscure smiles,
Daddy whispers sad, miss.. bye- bye...miss...
A gently evocative read about one dearly loved and now old. You give the reader hints of a full life that is lived in nostalgia now. Bitter sweet. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Tsira, a beautifully expressed tribute to your father, very touching to read...thank you for sharing it with us....it's lovely 10+++
Such a sweet account and tribute to your Dad - - thank you Tsira - a warm and; tender verse...... hugs from Fay..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A VERY GOOD POEM ON YOUR DAD...A TENDER TRIBUTE