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Jabin Jul 19
Three meager blackberries
not quite formed,
plucked too soon from the vine.

Like us,
you were not quite ripe.

But your sister is with us now.
Maybe I'll meet you someday.
in the waning days of my sojourn
when the Sun will set quicker than I remember
when I'll wish I'd taken advantage of a pain free body
and walked a bit longer in those fields of gold
searched my dreams for meaning
taken a few extra moments to absorb
the laughter of my children when they were mere toddlers
the mindset falls into one of waiting
as we drift off into the natural state of irrelevancy
like the favorite stuffed bear that is still loved
but has served its purpose
watching the world spin by upon a shelf
next to a copy of Tom Sawyer
I'd give all my remaining days
to re-live one of those fading memories
I'm finally back to writing new material after sifting through and revising some older pieces. Time to get back in the flow
My sons, there’re things I hope you’ve learned,
About the proper way to live. 
And with any respect I’ve earned,
I’ve fatherly advice to give. 

If you’re alone and can’t connect,
There’s a girl and you can’t reach her,
Know that love follows intellect. 
Aspire first to be her teacher. 

To say “I love you” frequently
Is only good if you are true. 
The pain of loving secretly
Will always eat away at you. 

Nurture your curiosity,
Though there’s sometimes no solution. 
Let asking be your specialty,
And learning your evolution.  

Identify the righteous way,
Aware of who you’re meant to be. 
Your mirror at least once per day,
Should reflect pride in what you see. 

Each morning that you see the sun,
Appreciate your sense of awe. 
Know your soul will always be one
With your father’s God of Torah. 

Always give yourself to others
You can’t be selfish and content. 
If you err and hurt another,
It should never be with intent. 

When life gives you a broken heart,
Even if that heart is not yours,
Just find some wisdom to impart. 
Let self-compassion open doors. 

When you have children of your own,
And I’m in Heaven up above,
Know this, my son, you’re not alone—
Inside you is your father’s love.
https://store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Impatient, once we were.
Patience suited the only option we had.
To wait for God’s precious gift.
Patiently we wait for her birth date.
We patiently waited to know her gender.

Seconds turned to minutes.
Minutes turned to hours.
Hours turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months.
For nine months we waited.
29th January 2012, we got our treasure.

The waiting is but not over.
Now we wait to see her growth.
We patiently wait to see her teen years.
What kind of parent will she be?
Will God’s grace and patience lead us to her grandparenthood?
This poem is dedicated to my six year old daughter.
Mike Chigo Mar 7
In the wake of Dawn
She cries and moans
In her womb was a little one
Alas she’s delivered of a son
“Welcome My Boy to the World”

He finds comfort in her warmth and
Finally decides she should be Mom
He looks around with dreamy eyes
Straight into her tear filled eyes
He cant understand what was wrong
But ‘tis her way of showing Joy
“Get Ready for Life Boy…Get ready”

In comes a man who embraces Mom
Carries him up and says praise to God
The way he smiled says he was Dad
He felt so strong to be in these arms
And slept hearing these words twice
“Welcome To Life, Welcome To Life”
This was my very 1st complete poem. I wrote this when I was 17
Francie Lynch Nov 2017
The disembodied radio host asked:
If you could live a past experience,
What would you choose?

I searched my far and recent memories.
What would it be?
Some thought ensued...
Then some more.
A week's gone by. Here's why.
Seven days ago...
I'd like, I thought, to bumper-jump
In four inch snow.
Then six days ago...
The tender, innocent, inviting experience
Of my most amazing, surprising and tantalizing
First Kiss.
Then five days ago...
My university years. They happened once.
Then four days ago...
Achieving a pleasing place with my avocation.
Then three days ago...
The first born, second born, third born. Daddyhood.
Then two days ago...
My happy and contented first day of retirement.
One day ago...
A Guiness and a shot of Jameson. Grandahood.
And today?
What would I like to re-experience...
Many more days
Like today.
Sometimes, days are a whirlwind,
Of possibilities, exchanges, people's faces.
Silently observing; energy stretched thin,
The sunlight sinks, leaving only traces.

You close your eyes after the day has decided to die down.
The weight of your exhaustion, so heavy, you could drown.

But before you have a chance to embrace the dreams that dangle above your head,
It's another day, and another whirlwind at the foot of your bed.
I wrote this a couple years ago - when my youngest child was a newborn. I felt that as soon as I had laid my head on my pillow and closed my eyes; it was morning, and I would have to start another day. Luckily, I get more sleep now.
David Mac Oct 2017
As Big Tom soaks up morning sun
Mathilda flirts with everyone
Miss Kitty likes her milk from May
While Sandra's Minnie 'gets her way'
Youg Archie: bound to cause a stir
And Hector: rarely did he purr
But Flashy - he's much like our Son
Big boy entrances everyone
So on this morn - as felines trod
Salute the cats of Westbank Quad!
Bibek Oct 2017
Father, I remember
Back when I was in the kindergarten
Back when I used to ride your back

I remember filling my timidly tender hands,
With a handful of love for you
And today,
I see my hands empty,
With my emptied hands,
And your eyes filled,
I realize, that I have grown different,
From you
I wish to learn more from him,
Give him back the worlds of love that he lent me
Francie Lynch Sep 2017
Death,
So cruel,
So kind,
Has taken my worries away;
The ones I wished would stay;
Worries, just memories.
I was left with my three,
So they obliged,
Now worries number five.
We know how worries grow,
They start so small, no worry at all,
Then they start to crawl.
We beget,
From their outset,
Worry.
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