In memory of my father

Dad died on Easter Sunday,
Not a funday, a funday,
A day of Resurrection,
Not of fatal inspection;
I saw him expire on the kitchen floor,
And what's more, what's more,
I didn't cry, didn't cry,
For Dad was a Dunkirk veteran
And he ordered me not to cry
On the battlefield of Everyman,
But he was also a drunkard,
A bruiser who fought hard,
A crooner who couldn't sing,
A lift-attendant who had a thing
About the working class cause,
A man who opened doors
For the Mayor and other VIPs,
In short, a man who tried to please.


But looking back, fifty years on,
I'm sorry I didn't cry as his only son;
And now I try to cry, try to cry,
But that page of history is dry, is dry.



Poetry by Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 287 times
Written on 2021-04-04 at 18:57

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Deeply affecting elegy, sir.
2021-04-05


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
I had the same experience as Elle, Chris.

What a remarkable poem you've written.
2021-04-04


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
An annual milestone of sadness and remembrance.
2021-04-04


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
GNU, to your dad Chris - Ive been there with my dad.
Ken D
2021-04-04


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Tears are easier to shed on loss as you grow older, as a child, the expected is always unexpected and reactions are different - I didn't cry either, I was too young and didn't understand the finality of death. I did cry when my father died but I was an adult then

Elle x
2021-04-04