Elsie

Goodbye to the Cider Drinker

I thought that I would write a poem so I could say goodbye.

And to remind us why we loved you, I hope that I don't cry.

 

I remember when I was little, I was a proper Daddy's girl;

You'd chase me round the garden, it used to give me such a thrill.

 

Then we moved to Devon, where you collected dogs and wives

and things began to change so much; talk about colourful lives!

 

We shared walks along the river, and spent hours down Fremington Quay.

We'd stay overnight in a caravan and have freshly caught salmon for tea.

 

Every hour that I had spare, I'd be with you in the pub,

Helping with the B&B; cooking all the grub.

 

At every special occasion the gypsies would come along;

They'd play their spoons and accordions, and we would sing the old pub songs.

 

And on Sundays you'd have the cowboys, or Mike Barnes with his guitar.

The cowboys would fire their noisy guns and we'd dive behind the bar.

 

Every weekend us kids would fight over which chores we would do:

The lounge, the bar, the empties, or the smelly, cold, men's loo!

 

We'd have to hide the cider when Geraldine would appear

and quickly find another glass to pretend you were drinking beer.

 

The years passed by, we all grew up, and left home one by one

and you found yourself in Turkey drinking cider in the sun.

 

But then you had a nasty fall and that’s where it all started;

You couldn’t stay there any more so from Turkey you departed.

 

It wasn’t til we got you back from that dodgy, sun-soaked place,

that you began to show emotion and say I love you to our face.

 

But trust you to get an illness that they don't know much about;

I wish we could go back in time when all you had was gout!

 

But I still took you down to 'Spoon's, where you could have a drink;

I'd sit there with my cup of tea, whilst your thatcher's you would sink.

 

We all had the most amazing day when Kim became a bride.

You watched her walking down the aisle,  you were so full of pride.

 

The Clayfield carers were wonderful; they loved your cheeky wit.

And you were stubborn to the end; you were such a cantankerous git!

 

I'm so thankful we were with you when you took your final breath.

It really seemed quite painless and such a peaceful death.

 

Now every time I pass the home I get an awful pain,

because you won't be in there, and I'll never see you again.

 

So now it's time to raise a glass and say a last goodbye.

We all love you very much, and now I think I'll cry.

 

Comments5

  • FredPeyer

    Welcome to MPS, Elsie!
    I am sorry for your loss, but your dad came alive for me in your poem. Very tender and beautiful.

  • space_girl

    Beautiful poem . I lost my dad in 2008 so I know your pain 🙁

  • Goldfinch60

    What a wonderful tribute to your Dad, you obviously loved him very much.Welcome to MPS.

  • Elsie

    Thank you for the lovely comments. I have dabbled with poetry all my life, but I have always been a 'rhymer' lol. It's that compulsion to keep Dad's memory alive that pushed me to find this outlet, so I think I may pluck up the courage to publish some of my other more silly poems. But the standard on here is incredible. 🙂

  • Elsie

    Thank you. This was harder to read than to write.....



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