Meade – Father and Daughter

Father and Daughter

The pleasure of rain swirls about her
as she plays in puddles at his feet
smiles wade into golden tresses
warm hands cradle his little petite

She stands on stones and stares up at him
casting magic into salty eyes
no ogre could come to trample here
a lion sleeps by her side

As snowy blankets are tucked to sleep
and robins trill the pine
a cupid claims Papa’s pearl
a tear drops in the wine

Little toes have slipped the gate
tiny shoes adorn the mantle
where wearied bones once drifted night
on ocean song and starry candles

Waves wander rugged shorelines
grinding stone into sand
again he strays into dusk and dark
fog crawls across the land

Sky full of molten sun
hides the tempest in the bay
into the mirror a stranger walks
it’s come to steal the wind away

A shadow lingers on the bluff
as the skin of the moon falls pale
her cello cries out to his soul
foundering in the gale

Now lullaby visits soothe the strings
as storms of faces come calling
moments of time adrift in space
seas heaving and falling

Serpent clouds in the window
creeping up along the coast
in her arms he quietly sings
sailing away on the ship of ghosts

Originally published in Verse Afire, The Ontario Poetry Society


Patrick’s bio

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