Autumn.
Mother said,
as she often did
and as often as that Mother bid
we did.
Mum could spot a speck of dirt behind my ears in candlelight
what great sight my Mother had.
My dad said,
"wash behind tha' lugs lest spuds'll grow inside thee head",but
dad as fathers will kept quiet until he needed to
chip in with words,
and though those words were few
we knew
he loved us too.
Time spins
like that bottle game and yet time sometimes remains the same
but I'm glad that I can still recall memories in
that distant fall of my
youth.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Autumn.
Mother said,
as she often did
and as often as that Mother bid
we did.
Mum could spot a speck of dirt behind my ears in candlelight
what great sight my Mother had.
My dad said,
"wash behind tha' lugs lest spuds'll grow inside thee head",but
dad as fathers will kept quiet until he needed to
chip in with words,
and though those words were few
we knew
he loved us too.
Time spins
like that bottle game and yet time sometimes remains the same
but I'm glad that I can still recall memories in
that distant fall of my
youth.
Request permission to use this poem