A Box of Stones

I have a young daughter who
has always collected stones.
She gets them from the seaside
and carefully takes them home.

I must have moved a ton of stones
from beaches near and far.
They seem to appear everywhere
- mostly in my car.

I must admit it irritates
and sometimes I get mad.
I did when she proffered another crop
"Can we take these home dad?"

"Why collect more stones?" I yelled.
"We have loads everywhere!
If we gave some to all your friends
We'd still have lots to spare."

Her explanation was disarming
irritation drained rapidly from me.
"I like to keep a box of these." she said
"Then I can always smell the sea."

Impotence

I have a daughter who is ill
and she is also very sad.
She looks to me to help her
because I am her dad.

Dad's fix everything don't they?
Isn't that why they are there?
To stand and fight and win
like a powerful great Brown Bear.

I would like to fix things for her
to shield her from this storm.
Take all the blows and pain away
and return life to her norm.

But her adversary is mighty
it stalks her day and night,
won't let her eat to live her life
and her big dad mourns in fright.

This caring parent looks on helplessly
so wishing he could do more,
she is drowning in a deep sea while
Counsellors' advise her from the shore.

Blackberries

She's in her twenties now and still she comes
and gives her dad a week.
The two of us together play
beside a muddy creek.

Not much to do, but that's the point
and she's forsaken her Uni spires
to walk and sail, talk and bike, and
toast marshmallows on driftwood fires.

We have our traditions which started
when she was only three,
one is picking blackberries
to make a crumble for our tea.

Blackberries fat and juicy
picked on a calm and sunny day
from hidden seaward bushes
by a gently flooding Bay.

Then the race back to base
with Tesco bags red and bleeding.
Wash out the salt and maggots
start the pastry mix kneading.

The oven seems to take an age
before the fruit and crust is done,
the happy anticipation is 
shared by we two, as one.

A simple pleasure has been shared
in this yearly interlude,
a missing year's relationship
is once again renewed.

She's in her twenties now and still she comes
and gives her dad a week.
The two of us together play
beside a muddy creek.

20th July 2002