All I Can Do....




We sit at the kitchen table sipping hot tea
He reminds me yet again I add too much milk
I tell him with a wink he could make his own...
A cheekiness I can only afford now as an adult
He runs his weathered hands through golden hair
All I can do is watch him with love and wonder
As he tells me tales of his childhood, and mine

Glancing up at me from the page he sketches on
Blue eyes reflecting the wisdom of his years
Fill with tears as he speaks of his second wife
The pain in his voice as he describes her hatred
And her nightly three champagne bottle habit
Cuts deep into my heart with the knowledge
That his journey is far from over, I know this road

This man, my ideal of what every man should be
Sits before me, older, vunerable and unsure
When not so long ago he stood in this same room
And ordered out my drunken abusive partner...
He saved me, but ironically cannot save himself
Now he comes to me for solace and comfort
No longer just father and daughter, but friends...

Like him, I wish I could do more....



Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 471 times
Written on 2009-06-07 at 04:47

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It does ring true that sometimes it's easier to help someone else than to help ourselves. I suppose this is why it is of supreme importance to try to maintain family relationships, if possible, and to appreciate our true friends. Terrific poem.

William
2009-06-07


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
You have a wonderful relationship that has crossed the boundaries and is much freer than many have with their parents - you are the child he brought up and loved and now the woman, he loves and respects :-)

Elle x
2009-06-07