Sunday, 19 June 2016

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


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)

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