I Write All These Poems For You ~ for Fathers' Day

(Dad)

All the songs of my heart are written for you

and spun to the silent music we danced to

when I stood on your feet,

with my face pressed into your green gardening cardigan;

the one with leather buttons and holes,

that smelt of earth and kindness and safety

...and sometimes blackbirds' wings or anger.

And I breathed you in.

How I loved our dancing.

All the songs of my heart are written for you

made brighter by the light in your eyes

when I did a thing that made you proud;

like learning to ride a bike or getting married,

or caring about robins' eggs,

or not crying when I grazed my knee,

...or when you died.

But you would have been proud anyway.

How I loved to make you proud.

All the songs of my heart are written for you,

made poems by the language you taught me

to love and play and dance with,

and work with, like you worked at your lathe,

and secretly in your garage to make me a dolls' house,

And once you took me there and showed me a wasps' nest,

delicate as parchment and intricate as meaning,

And I noticed that you never knocked it down.

And that's why I write all these poems for you.

(Jacqueline Woodward-Smith, 2011)