It was the twelfth of May,
and night wore silence like a cloak.
The stars, untroubled by modern glare,
breathed quietly upon your birthright—
a cradle woven not of silver spoons,
but wind through orchard bough.
You came, I imagine, with dusk’s permission—
as supper cooled on earthen plates,
and chapel bells dimmed in twilight hush.
Somewhere, children prayed like sparrows:
without doctrine, without shame, only wonder,
offered up like crumbs.
And there you stood—or would—
speaking to daffodils and grieving yew trees,
your voice a covenant with the simple,
with all things that endure softly.
My father heard you first
through page and candlelight,
and passed that flame to me.
Now I walk where screens pulse,
not stars, but still, in the hush before sleep,
I hear you measure footfalls across a lake
that mirrors nothing but itself.
In your lines, the world slows
just long enough to be forgiven.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 24th, 2025 01:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments12
It is the quaint familiarity that some how is not easily identifiable that gains the fave in this poem of tribute. A most lovely write
Yes like classical music that many can't identify but are familiar with. Thanks Soren, 🙏🏻🕊️
It's been forever that I haven't been able to get myself to write about things concerning my late father but it's getting easier over time. 🕊️🙏🏻
This is beyond beautiful, and I don't know that I can pull off writing about either of my late parents yet.
It took me decades to be able to write a decent line; now it appears I have finally crossed that particular bridge and turned that specific corner. Hopefully new pastures are ahead. Thanks heaps 🙏🏻🕊️
For me this is a great tribute to your Father and your childhood and the great William Wordsworth. I always loved Wordsworth.He had a simple genious that was easy to appreciate and enjoy.Well done Excellent piece
thanks mein freund🙏🏻🕊️
Excellent write, arqios. Dads can be overwhelming. I grieved mine with short-form poems. Still do.
That’s kind of my go-to grieving these days as well. It was his birthday a few days ago and my thoughts went that way🙏🏻🕊️thank you, Jerry.
My Dad said to me once.
Son.
When the universe offers you a chance to shut up
Take it.
Wow. That packed a punch. I wonder what brought him to such a definitive conclusion… perhaps he was a lad with lots to say or something. Pardon the curiosity 🕊🙏🏻
My dad was stoic. He spoke short and sweet, believed in listening more than talking, and made very open comments. Pearls of wisdom taken out of context can be confusing. But they can land a punch. I miss him.
Sounds like an awesome person and father! 🕊🙏🏻
A touching nicely written recollection of there father and his interests, nicely done
Many thanks PL/TN🙏🏻🕊️
You are very welcome
Here lies the hatchet 🪓 ochre-stained but buried deep
Me lingers there, weeping silently.
Good write A.
Thanks O, good to have you here🕊🙏🏻
Wow. You leave me breathless, and half delirious in concluding, sweetly fainting, half drunk on your delectable lines weaving a fantastical tale which takes my soul off on flights of fancy so dreamy I never want to leave. Gorgeous and beautifully rendered with exquisite imagery and a delicacy whose inherent poignancy makes me swoon. Thank you so very much for sharing. I love, love, LOVE it.
So far the best of anything remotely to do with my biological father; thanks so much 🙏🏻🕊️
My pleasure, you're welcome. Rather, thank you!
Fine words arqios.
Andy
Thanks Andy; truly appreciated 🙏🏻🕊️
great write my friend
thanks friend, much appreciated 🙏🏻🕊
welcome
I can say nothing of the relationship, but the smoothness of the write carried me along and caught....something. Thanks.
Must be the grease that smoothened the running of gears and moving parts of the relationship or could it rather be silicone spray, WD40? even?
Oh come on - I know it was a serious poem. Relationships with fathers can be problematic. I knew yours wasn't but couldn't somehow engage at that level. I wanted to acknowledge the craft in the words, but obviously did that too clumsily. Sorry.
Nah, you’re alright mate. No need for apologies 🙏🏻🕊️
Touching Words on your Father. I miss mine also.
But as long as we think of them; They are always here .
Yes, that is so true, Kevin. It can be quite surprising how much remains, even now that they are gone. Thank you so much for your much appreciated word of response.🙏🏻🕊️
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