I dreamt about you
I touched your flanneled arm
And you took my hand
I can feel the pressure of your grip
Smell the cotton of your shirt
I can see you smile at me
as I bond with your Mom
And I wake with you in my heart
Writing poetry is like antique shopping for words: sometimes you find a treasure, and sometimes you find a dud. ;)
I dreamt about you
I touched your flanneled arm
And you took my hand
I can feel the pressure of your grip
Smell the cotton of your shirt
I can see you smile at me
as I bond with your Mom
And I wake with you in my heart
My father was not the most demonstrative man
With a heart full of love and eyes full of tears
he tended to keep his affection and words to himself
When he brought a Claddagh ring*
back from a visit to Ireland
he was so silenced by emotion
that he failed to tell me it was no ordinary ring
When I had it sized for my right hand
my mother asked, "What are you doing?"
"Your father specifically bought it
to replace your engagement ring."
*a symbol of friendship (cairdeas), love (grá) and loyalty (dÃlseacht)