Sometimes remembering
Is a good thing.
A little birdie whistle.
Wonder if he's happy,
Or did he sit upon a thistle.
Maybe that was a screech,
Heard from a bigger bird.
Remembering what my father
Heard, At the dawn chorus
Of the birds.
Woken up stormed out of bed,
As he opened the window up.
I still remember what he said,
He bellowed. "Shut up."
Closed the window,
Then climbed back into bed.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 125 times
Written on 2021-12-13 at 02:23
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Is a good thing.
CHILDHOOD DAYS
Heard on a warm summers day,A little birdie whistle.
Wonder if he's happy,
Or did he sit upon a thistle.
Maybe that was a screech,
Heard from a bigger bird.
Remembering what my father
Heard, At the dawn chorus
Of the birds.
Woken up stormed out of bed,
As he opened the window up.
I still remember what he said,
He bellowed. "Shut up."
Closed the window,
Then climbed back into bed.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 125 times
Written on 2021-12-13 at 02:23
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
