My Irish sunshine
From Dust Bowl
And
The Great Depression
From hunger
And hard work
He grew
Into a soldier
I need no reminder of the cost
Husband, father
And oh, so much more
Parents gone while I live
in an old house
in the very heart of things
In the house they built
Midst the ashes and memories
of other old houses
The very heart of them lives
I like to say I have Dad's eyes
I hope I have their zest for living
I know I have their love of the land
And pray I have their heart
For dVerse~Poets Pub
31 comments:
I believe that the heart of someone who lived somewhere before can inhabit a house. Your father must have been a VERY hard worker.
This is a great self portrait through this beautiful tribute to your parents.
it is good that you still have that connection to them through the land...so did dad pass in the war? was that the cost? i imagine you still have a lot of them in you...smiles.
You need no reminder the cost as it lingers in your memories. I think your parents will always live in your center, your heart.
Gail,
You have your parents heart.....bigger than ever, warm, and caring. Your parents are there in the house living in the air you breath, within the walls you live, on the land you walk and water you walk.
They remain.........
So nice, such great words about your parents. Thank you for sharing them with us. :-)
What a wonderful way to weave the words into your own story. We would like to see all that's good from our parents in ourselves
A beautiful reminiscence, many-layered, and the weaving in of those lines seems completely natural.
This is beautiful Gail and you do have his heart and I am sure his eyes. Your Dad was to be admired as well as you. Hug B
i can feel your feelings in this one. and you already know i love that old house...
I like that house. I like your poem. My grandparents house looked like that too.
Gail, looks like the house might need just a bit of repair, but I love it. And the poem is very lovely. Thanks for sharing, and have a great weekend.
This resonates with me and my experiences as well. I love seeing my grandparents in me and my parents. I guess that is one way we continue to live after we pass -through the succeeding generations.
their zest for living... it sounds like you have inherited it... your love shines through...for the land...your parents and all they were able to give...
their zest for living... it sounds like you have inherited it... your love shines through...for the land...your parents and all they were able to give...
Indeed, you are blessed. It seems they were, too.
A very meaningful share Gail ~ We can only hope we our parents zest for life, and their big heart ~ How lucky for you to inherit the house in the very heart of things ~
You do, I just feel it!
Your father sounds like he was a wonderful, hard working person. Just like his daughter!
Lynne x
Your love, respect and admiration comes shining through. Well done.
Just found you through dVerse :) I love the imagery and family history inside this piece. I love it :)
This one brought tears.
My parents were products of that time and knew hard work and making do and living on what they grew in the garden.,
A lovely tribute Gail. Your dad, although not Irish, sounds a lot like my dad. Born in 1920, one of 7 kids, his mom died when he was 3. His father couldn't work and care for everyone, so dad and his younger brother were put in an orphanage. Dad hated it because his little bro wet the bed and he got whippin's. Daddy broke them out and they lived on the run, doing all manner to survive. Yes, hard times, hard work, honorable ethics and a good and generous heart. I only wish I could be half the person he was...mine was also in WWII, infantryman and was on Normandy Beach. May they rest in peace...
Awesome poem, Gail. ♥
That's so beautiful and tender. Thanks for sharing with us.
A very touching way to rock the prompt; my parents died young, so I have had to build a legacy anew for my 3 daughters & 6 grandchildren.
It's good to desire to have your father's heart...that says a lot about your father :-)
Well said Gail:)
fantastic honoring of your parents
A slice-of-life poem giving us your parents, their home and yours seen through history, built with love. Excellent.
Such a lovely tribute to your parents, a heartfelt writing.
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