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MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA

0 posted 2000-08-02 03:36 PM



A Feel Inside My Heart


Dad you are not just a memory
But are a feel inside my heart.
I try at times to recall of the first
But all are a puzzle, or of a part.
Photos lined, upon the upright grand.
Me in your arms, blonde and just "one"
Too young to know how special you were,
Until life, shared between us was over, was "done".

I must have meant more than I thought I did.
My siblings (all four) tease me each time,
Your birthday or holidays come rolling around
They are very quick to speak up, to remind.
There were times that I knew, times I could tell
But you were my "special" when grown.
No one can know of the loss I have felt
When you left me, without warning, alone.

But Dad I can tell you, you've brought out in me
A hidden, words deep, from the past.
Emotions ran high since the day you had left
And escape, sometimes flowing quite fast.
The happy in me that was then, all my life
Has been trying to show it's face.
But the hurts that keep rising, cause cloaking of them
Just the cold, now fills up empty space.

The memories of childhood are few, far between.
Five children, two adopted,  took away
The time to be living, sharing and giving
When working two jobs, for our stay.
But you always provided, shelter and clothes
and food, life's necessities.
Just wish there was more, I could have sheltered for you
When you were hit with that awful disease.

I will stop now because this is sadder than sad
And I'll leave with a repost below...
But first a new poem, just written for you
A few words, I've been challenged you know.

D on't fret Dad, don't worry
A nd please know I'm trying
D ays end, as new ones begin.
D on't know what the morrow's of
Y esterday's dreams, will send me
.................to heal me within.


Splashing of the Waves (My Favorite Memories)

Wearily, I take that hot soaking bath,
closing my eyes.
No way to dismiss the flashings
in my mind today ...
memories of my past.

I am at the ocean's edge,
hand in hand with him,
idolizing this man,
who is splashing the waves with me ...
who catches me,
as the sand that has been oozing under
and between my toes is being washed away,
leaving me unbalanced, falling into the salty waters,
as the tide rolls in and washes the shore.
He catches me, just as I am about to go under,
and I look up at his blue adoring eyes
and feel the hero that he is.
I see him as clearly,
as if he is standing next to me now,
as if he had never left my side,
never left me here, alone ...


My eyes flutter ...
opening and then closing again,
as I breathe in the vanilla scented mist
from the bath and continue
on my journey of the past ...

Just he and I, we, on a trip with others
to the east coast gambling palace
in Atlantic City.
Another shore, another memory ...

Chink, chink, ringing bells,
one armed bandits holding everyone up,
but not him ... WIN! WIN! WIN!
and me cupping my small hands
to catch the shine that overflowed
from the look in his eyes
and from the machine's emptying out
their treasures to me.
Sent me to cash in for paper,
in exchange for those beautiful silver disks ...
stuffed away in hiding, as he continued his play,
not wishing to leave this new love,
the one that has replaced me for the day.

Luck was on his side,
never has been on mine,
although lucky I was to have been born of him.
When his first love had expended all she had to give
and emptied her heart, attendents rushed to her aid.
He then turned and remembered me.
Smiling that knowing trusting smile,
he whispers and pleads with his eyes,
"I have only won $250 ...
the rest is our little secret."

"Yes" my soft smile returned in answer.
Another one of our little secrets,
still in my mind, still in my heart ...
No longer can I share in these
or see the pleasure in his eyes
or hear the whispers of his secrets,
but for the flashing in my mind,
of these memories of my past ...

Eyes fluttering once again,
this time, I open and am in the clouds.
Once again
... that flight home, me hugging the window,
staring, wishing, dreaming, pleading
... and there he is, waving to me,
or so I envisioned.
It was one month to the day,
and a long, hard two weeks, thereafter.
Helping, struggling and not understanding why
I wasn't given the time and the chance to say goodbye.
Leaving her alone,(Mom)
having settled her in a new life of aloneness
and me ... just wanting one last look,
one last kiss on the forehead,
one final hug of "see you next time" ...
knowing I am never to see, never to feel,
never to smell the familiar scent of his aftershave,
or to hold his hand, as I once did,
as that child walking along the beach,
sharing with him the splashing of the waves.


Dad, you are not just a memory,
but are a feel inside my heart
at all times ...

You are loved and missed
Your
M




© Copyright 2000 Maureen - All Rights Reserved
Sunnyone
Member Ascendant
since 2000-07-06
Posts 5334
Staffordshire, England
1 posted 2000-08-02 04:23 PM


MMoonchild....
              When I read this, I thought it
    was a beautiful, heart-wrenching tribute
    to your Dad. It is all that, but there is
    more......it puts into words the very
    special bond between a daughter and her
    father. My father is dying right now, and
    I feel just what you wrote.....
              Sometimes it helps to
                 share the pain..



~~ To Live is to Give ~~


MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
2 posted 2000-08-02 05:23 PM


Sunny1  then if he is dying  do this please  before it is too late  ...my dad's death is  why I began to write... I kept my christmas tree up (artificial)  til after valentines day made it into my valentines tree since it had  hearts and mauve and burgandy and angels... a victorian theme...  then I searched for all the cards that were unsent to my dad ...I use to buy them ahead of time... let me  post these under here for you and please...pay heed  if you have the chance   give him the cards close to the end before it is over...... make it a special time of sharing .. I never got the opportunity and missed  saying goodbye by 2 days...of flight

the letter...part1

it was so hard to sit with her
and talk about the day ...
having been to the cemetary
crying the whole way
she reached into her bag
and from her wallet took out
a small folded paper
as I looked about
she handed it to me
twice folded tiny, square but neat
I reached ... our hands met
she said, "read it, my sweet"
I gave her a look
as I took the white square
she gave a slight smile and
I thought, should I dare?
said, "open it please"
so, I began to unfold
as I read the first words
I could tell it was old
from their first year of marriage
more than 50 years ago
expecting my brother
in two more days or so
words of such warmth
he had written to her
as I continued to read
something inside me did stir
words that I never
had heard him express
words that could now
show me his tenderness
now it was my turn
to reach out to her and cry
for the words were my Dad's
and I don't know why
but I never knew him
to have ever been this way
this side he didn't show
to us all, every day
it was something so special
and so very dear
I wish I had known this
before his last year
they were gentle and loving
the words that he wrote
he had been in the army
and on her, he did dote
he was just checking in
to make sure that she knew
how much he missed her
and that he loved her, too
this was so hard
for me to digest
for I had been lost
in my own unhappiness
and wondering how
my marriage could last
another 25 years
if it's been like the past
she said, " honey the first 25
were as great as could be
but the next 25, were
more stressful, you see
but you must work things out
and you must compromise
and then each passing day
you will soon realize
if the love that you share
is both honest and true
you will get through the hard times
I promise this, to you
and the more that you try
there'll be better times, too
and the bad ones will lessen
until there are a few
I know this", she said
"I have been through it before
it's just stages", she said
"and you'll get through them, I'm sure"
so I kissed her goodbye
and I sent her back home
to that place where she will now
be living all alone
but in that little wallet
in that corner, thereof
is a piece that remains
from the one that she loved.
Maureen

My Valentine Tree  pt 2

I have been so very busy
writing poems, so you see
I haven't had the time, of late,
to take down my Xmas tree.

I took a look a moment ago
and thought I'd start right now,
to remove the decorations
but then stopped again, thinking ...

How

beautiful the decorations were,
of pink and burgundy!
How the balls were filled with berry scent
from the flowered potpourri.

The ribbons adorned were gold in tone
and the angels hanging there ...
were staring back at me,as if
to say, "WHO REALLY CARES?"

Why should I take this tree down?
Why not leave it there?
It can be a wonderful reminder
of a spiritual time of the year.

I'll add some hearts, victorian cards
and before my very eyes,
I'll have the most wonderful Valentine.
A Beautiful Surprise!

I'll keep this up for this whole year
and will then be able to think
of the delight I have in seeing it.
It's colors ... burgundy and pink.

It will make my heart feel alive and full
for each time I pass it by
will remind me, this will be a better year,
one with answers to my ?WHYS?

I'll start today, to make those hearts
and on each one there will be
the name of someone special
in my life, who's meant to me

such happiness and filled MY HEART
with love, fond memories.
And bring them close, from near and far,
both friends and family.

As I sit and write my poems from here,
my inspiration will be
the JOY and LOVE I get from gazing
at my Valentine Xmas Tree.

2/7/99
M

Indecision ... Love Undelivered

I sometimes buy more than one card
for each occasion that comes along.
I do this because I find so many that seem just right
for that special person I want to send it to.
So, I become indecisive and I take them all.

Today, as I am searching through my cards
for Valentine's Day, I run across ...
~To My Dad on Valentine's Day~
~To the # 1 Dad on Father's Day~
~Happy Birthday, Dad~
To My Father on Christmas~
And I am saddened.

Sad because now, all that is left
are these special cards, loving cards,
that I chose especially for my father, no one else,
who will no longer be able to receive words of love,
that were contained within.

And I will no longer be able to see his eyes light up
when he opens and reads the words,
that I so lovingly chose just for him.
Or watch the corners of his mouth turn up,
as he lets out a soft laugh, after reading
from those cards that have a touch of humor to them.

How I wish now, that I had gathered, signed and delivered
all of them to him in the last days he was with us.
sighhhhh ... Wishes get you nowhere.

But now that I have decided
to leave my Xmas tree up for Valentine's Day,
I think I will take all of my cards meant for 'Dad,'
and write my loving messages on them, as I would have,
place beautiful ribbons on each
and attach them to my Valentine Tree of Love.

And I hope that he is looking down
and he knows they were meant for him ...
that I miss him ... and the hurt is still there ...
but lessening every day.

2/8/99

sorry this took up much space but i thought it may help others too
~~soft hugs and calm wishes while you struggle with this
Maureen


[This message has been edited by MMoonchild (edited 08-02-2000).]

ethome
Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada
3 posted 2000-08-03 03:16 AM


All I can say is...just beautiful!...it can't do anything but help others.
MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
4 posted 2000-08-03 07:16 AM


ethome...I just wish I had been smarter then..thank you for your thoughtful words
Maureen

Jon Mewett
Senior Member
since 2000-03-04
Posts 1304

5 posted 2000-08-03 07:35 AM


In the small white tent that need had made
This is where they plied their trade
They sat together working man and boy
They carved out from the bleached white bone
Religious relics they would hone
And how they carved these monuments’ of joy

Small white beads formed with care
They would sell them to the pilgrims there
As they passed by.. up to the holy mount
The beads they’d hang around their head
And walk along while prayers were said
In grateful hands the precious beads they’d count

This is all the boy had known
He’d been born, lived and grown
In the tiny village nestled by the hill
They’d come down to their shop each day
And together they would carve away
And prayed to God their empty plates He’d fill

The boy’s father was …gentle kind
He’d always had a fruitful mind
And to pass the hours he tell stories to the boy
He’d tell of love he’d tell of prayer
But mostly in their hours’ there
He’d tell him how their life was full of joy

The days were always hot and long
And sometimes they would sing a song
And the fathers’ voice was always full of hope
They’d sometimes sing in voice so loud
It would stop the passing crowd
The melodies would weave and waltz and lope

The boy’s sweet mother had passed away
Ten years ago …a frightful day
That day they’d wept that day they’d felt bereft
It had drawn the man close to the boy
Making him a greater joy
Their two souls’ was all that there was left

And so they carried on their yoke
Of why it happened never spoke
They accepted it was meant to be that way
And if the boy would falter so
The fathers’ hand would guide him… slow
And his gentle voice would help him through the day

And on this day from the heavenly rack
The sun shone harshly on their back
The boy was sitting working on the floor
His father lay down on the sheet
Took the linen from his feet
He touched the boy...but he heard his voice no more

The boy just sat and blankly stared
He’d had never told him that he’d cared
His father face was quiet and serene
But he never forgot that awful day
The day his hope had passed away
But went on working where the pair had been

The boy just carried on the trade
But the trinkets now were poorly made
That tent of joy became a sullen place
He never spoke he never sang
And all day long his head would hang
Oh how he wished to see his fathers’ face

Today the pilgrims’ still pass by
The sun still pours down from the sky
But now’s a relic carved with Gods’ own hand
As they pass in prayers they tread
But they always stop and bow their head
At the white bone cross…. lying on the sand

Hewn Of Love

Jon


Sunnyone
Member Ascendant
since 2000-07-06
Posts 5334
Staffordshire, England
6 posted 2000-08-03 07:51 AM


Maureen...
         I just wanted to say thank you for
     sharing with me.....it means a lot, as
     I'm in a situation where I don't have
     many friends to share with.
         I know there are others out there
     who will read your words and gather
     strength from them, as I have just done!
              You are a special person,
                   my friend....
                    Thank you for caring....
        (and I am taking your advice....)


I have but one goal in
life.........
To make you smile!
~~ Sunny ~~


Sudhir Iyer
Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943
Mumbai, India : now in Belgium
7 posted 2000-08-03 07:56 AM


Maureen,
I am stuck for words, forgive me for that... I just read your poem, and the one that followed and the rest of it all..... and I am amazed, dazed, totally lost for words or praise...

so in word, I will say FABULOUS

regards,
sudhir

MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
8 posted 2000-08-04 02:08 AM


Jon Mewett...I am  speechless and tear filled

thank you for sharing...
~~soft hugs
Maureen


MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
9 posted 2000-08-04 03:22 AM


Sunny1

I am here as a friend anytime you need one  just email me and I will be here for you, I promise
~~soft hugs
Maureen

MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
10 posted 2000-08-04 08:09 AM


Sudhir ...that means an awful lot to me... number one..I wouldn't have even  begun to read and write and appreciate poetry if it wasn't for the loss of my dad...and all the circumstances surrounding it...although it has been my  downfall in life..it has brought out in me something I didn't know existed......and for that I am greatful although  my family now believes I am obsessed with words...but  then they also love the gifts I give them of personal poems for all ocassions...thank you once again
~~soft smiles
Maureen

Irish Rose
Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263

11 posted 2000-08-05 07:59 PM


I have also found that in loss, we cling to something for life. We are blessed when we find that expression and we become stronger in it. You have found what was always inside of you and it shines.

Kathleen

MMoonchild
Senior Member
since 2000-07-13
Posts 1715
PA
12 posted 2000-08-05 11:13 PM


you are beginning to bring tears to my eyes tonight Kathleen

~~soft thanks..for your kindness
Maureen

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