Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

To Sing With My Father Again

I heard a song yesterday
so familiar to me
took me home to a place way back when,
the melody was strong
and I just sang along;
it took me back to my father again.

I remembered we'd sing
as we rode in the car
sometimes we would sing it again;
we made the choices
as we blended our voices;
I'd like to sing with my father again.

As we'd sing with each other
we'd harmonize, too
we'd end one and the next would begin;
I was but a boy
filled with such joy;
wish I could sing with my father again.

We'd sing accapella
sometimes trading parts
as everyone else would listen;
it was back in the day
we'd sing all the way;
be good to sing with my father again.

When I heard that song yesterday
I listened real close
and you won't believe what did happen;
I heard it so clear
my dad's voice in my ear;
and I was singing with my father again!

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: The High Desert, in the wild west, southern California, U.S. of A.., USA

Favorite Poets: Keates, Poe, Dickinson, and Dr. Seuss. There are a smattering of others, but why bother listing 'em all, ya know?, I also rely on a few of our poets, here....for advice, and what not. I couldn't possibly explain what a fountain of live, effective knowledge we have...right here in our midst ! To catch a glimmer of brilliance, merely visit: the Stream.

More from this author

Comments

Search

Search

12 years 9 months ago

It's real

The way I see it, real poetry doesn't come from putting some rhymes and stanzas together in a specific style or metrical structure. The way I see it, true poems are created from emotion, imagination, and history, our own history. Often times we display our poetry without even picking up a pen, it is the emotion that we show which carries on with whoever hears our words. That's probably why I dislike criticizing peoples poems, because if I do, I feel like I have trampled on their soul, their history. What I just read here, is one of the many works in a world of true poetry. I see real poetry, because I see emotion, and I see your history. So I will not say that I love or hate it, but I shall always remember it and I can feel what you wanted your audience to feel.

docmaverick

docmaverick

12 years 9 months ago

I must say....

...that was very generously, and most eloquently stated; and I thank you. You're very right, you know. For had you hated it, it wouldn't have stood as long as you had most eloquently stated!
doc.

docmaverick

docmaverick

12 years 9 months ago

You know....

...this WAS a very emotional piece for me. You're right, again.
doc.