Little father sits down heavily
at the kitchen table ,
filling his glass with fire water
that he savors slowly .
With his wolf eyes ,contemplating
the reunited family .
Silent little mother
serves steaming thick stew .
In front of their empty plate,
children bow the head ,
waiting their turn
and saying the prayer .
Little father takes a knife ,
slicing a piece of black bread .
In the fire place
the glowing flame ,
makes the log crackle...
How pensive you look
little father ?
Working so hard
for your loved ones !
Everyday waking up at dawn ,
in the evening coming back...
So tired by the harsh labor ,
that you don't kiss your kids
and not a glance for the wife .
But,we know how attentive you are
for our happiness !
Everyone keeps the place
that tradition imposes .
Work is a sacred duty
and we are the young guard ,
your wisdom teaches us !
Watch beautiful star over our home !
Little father you don't talk much
but your word is right
and from it emanates the truth
of the great helmsman !
A rose garden surrounds
our modest house .
On the bench,smoking a pipe,
you like to meditate .
Sometimes its necessary to punish
and you do it with regret ...
Ho father so good !
And now ,you're sitting
by the hearth ,
that calls you ...
You turn on the radio
to hear the news ,
always good ...
Already thinking about
what to do tomorrow...
You protect us from the evil
and take care of the harvest ...
You,beloved little father of people !
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 21st, 2025 05:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments4
At first this seemed such a vivid portrayal of a man well pictured but then I wondered if it were a metaphor of political leadership. Nicely done
Just a simple country scene ...Do you see anything else ?
The general meaning of what I meant by political leadership is authoritarian from God to dictators large or small.
great write
We miss you little father !
The strength of this poem lies in its ambiguity — in that delicate space between reverence and doubt. If you trust the voice, you hear a hymn to labor and tradition. But if you begin to question it, the silence turns unsettling.
Osmosis between family microcosm and state macrocosm !
BRAVO
Thank you Tony !
You're welcome
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