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The Seed (in the beginning)

My father was a Poet in his bygone days
with his poems ‘For a Kite Hawk’ and ‘Indian Ways’.
He wrote of love for Mother and of David too
and words of Christian faith with a prayer or two.

When I used to know him before he sadly died
he would show his poems to me with modest pride.
But I was too young to know, he’d sown a seed in me
for at that time, I did not take to words of poetry.

Then one late November day as I sat there in my room
I heard on the radio someone sing words to a classic tune.
My head was suddenly full of words running around in rhyme
could it be the seed he’d sown had found its harvest time?

Now, I’m just beginning, in this moment of time
to see if I can also write something down in rhyme.
I’d like to think the way he wrote now lives inside of me
and I too can write some words in verse like him as poetry.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Last few words: 
the beginning of my poetry writing
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Comments

Thank you Shirley.
take care
Tim

author comment

a nice lyrical reminisce about the influence of a dad who was poet...

my favourite line "could it be the seed he’d sown had found its harvest time"...

raj (sublime_ocean)

thank you Raj. This was only the second poem I wrote.
take care,
Tim

author comment

I wonder if that will happen to our grandchildren too?

Loved the rhyming. ( except the very last line was slightly off beat ). But that maybe just me.

Other than that Brilliant,

As Raj says a nice lyrical reminisce about the influence of a dad who was poet.

I always enjoy reading your poems

Love Mand xxxxx

Thank you Mand, I just wish my father was still around for me to share my writing with him.
take care,
Tim

author comment
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