Memories (Inpsired by Jim's 'Spring Wind')




FOR ME

 

 

Sunshine, when a young six year old,
Meant wonderful Sunday trips
To London's verdant Hilly Fields.
Remembering back Seventy Four years
Those green acres seemed enormous
And there was room for me to run
Holding tight to a flimsy string
That stretched out to the flighty
Coloured fabric kite with trailing tail,
That if the wind was right rose high
And fluttered in the blue, blue sky.
I can still see my dad smiling
Watching my delight at having
Successfully flown that kite.
My achievement was his too
For he had patiently taught me
All that he knew about a piece
Of fabric stretched over bamboo
Sticks tied to a ball of string,

A breeze, and a length of ribbon.
For in the end such simple things
Were based on the technicalities
And science that he loved -
But far less than the love he had
For me.

 

 

© Griffonner 2026





Poetry by Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 126 times
Written on 2026-02-07 at 11:17

Tags Memories  Father  Kite 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
A sublime evocation of childhood, and how a father could show his love in such a simple yet profound way - Bravo Allen
2026-02-08


Ray Miller
Lovely poem. Kids - and Dads - still do fly kites. It's achievement, by the way.
2026-02-08


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Oh such are memorrys made
That last a life time
Kenny D.
2026-02-08


William Hughes The PoetBay support member heart!
I used to make them out of old newspapers and flour paste. Do kids even play with kites now? Do they even know what they are. Maybe it should be mandatory for every dad to show his kids how to fly a kite, a much more enjoyable way to learn about aerodynamics. I love memory poems. Maybe I'll buy a kite for my neighbor kids.
2026-02-07


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Here we go! This triggered a memory of my father and I flying a kite in a park—something I had forgotten, or at least hadn't thought of in a long, long time. I wonder at the sheer quantity of forgotten memories, and what fun to have one brought forth, such as this kite-flying day.
2026-02-07


Melinda K Zarate The PoetBay support member heart!
This is just so lovely. Thank you for sharing it again.
Sincerely,
Melinda
2026-02-07