Poem: Dad
I could list a million memories
But I’ve chosen my favourite few
That I cherish in my childhood treasury
Known only to me and you.
A Christmas throwing frozen muck
At the allotment, and at you
Luckily you perfected a duck
That saved you from a mouthful or two.
Days at the cricket club, with those we hold dear
Uncle Mick manning the barbecue
You’d let me finish your pint of beer
Then tell Mother I could handle a few.
Potting on in the heated greenhouse,
Wiping the pots down and tucking in seeds
And your unfortunate choice in spouse,
(A point on which we’re all agreed!)
Cooking pollack in the convection microwave
A tactic I sincerely hope you don’t still employ
For the sake of the noses of colleagues so brave
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After the garlic you would (by the bulb) enjoy!
Tea and cake outside Aunty Lea’s shed
(Tea tastes so much better outdoors)
Then returning home, watered and fed
To Gardeners World, Top Gear, and more.
Eurhythmics, Madonna, Michael Bolton, Pink Floyd
Were the artists we chose for our ears
Mariah Carey and Genesis we repeatedly enjoyed
It’s just a shame about Tears for Fears…
A steak sandwich at the Greyhound
When you’d take me to work with you
I’d make tea in glass mugs of smoky brown
And you’d let me take sugar; not one, but two!
Driving around the roads of Leicestershire
Where you’d explain to me the concept of a clutch
No wonder you regarded my 17th with such fear
When I’d looked forward to driving like my dad, so much
There are many fathers in the world
Some are rubbish, some just fine
But as dads go, you are perfect
Old; but perfect. And you’re mine.
