Daddy’s Fishing
Daddy brought me fishing
On Sunday afternoons
We’d cast the lines,
Sit and wait,
For the fish to bite the bait.
Daddy came to my soccer games
He’d watch from behind the line
And when I scored he’d cheer and shout:
“That’s my daughter, mine!”
Daddy fixed the car up,
He changed the light bulbs too.
And when the toilet overflowed,
He’d show me what to do.
Daddy was a great cook
He never burnt our food
His specialty was hotdogs
Which he grilled on the barbecue
Daddy went to Afghanistan
He called every few days
He came back for three weeks
But he needed to go back away
Daddy didn’t come back
And Mommy got “The Call”
She cried and told me Daddy
Would be back once and for all
I didn’t know why she was sad
He would soon be back here
He’d tell me that he’d missed me
Oh, he had been gone a year
Mommy brought me to the airport
The day that he came back
Lots of soldiers were there too
Some people wearing black
Mommy held my hand tight
While soldiers lowered down
A big red and white coffin
That’s when my Mom broke down
I ran towards the coffin
But Mommy held me back
She told me to be quiet
Or she’d send me off to nap
I asked my Mommy what was in
The big red and white coffin
She looked at me with puffy eyes
And said:
Your Daddy, it’s him.
I screamed and yelled
It couldn’t be;
My Daddy was so strong
There must have been some mistake
There’s something here that’s wrong
One Sunday afternoon,
Perfect fishing weather,
My Daddy was put in the ground
Where he would stay forever
Lots of people were there
They hugged me and they cried
They showed me pictures of him
A small boy with blue eyes
My Mommy put some flowers
On the stone that marked the place
Where my daddy rested
Where he would be to stay
My Mommy brought me back home
She tucked me in my bed
And asked me if I understood
That my daddy was dead
I said that yes,
I understood,
But Daddy wasn’t dead.
“He’s simply gone for awhile
We’ll join him soon I’ll bet.
Daddy lives with angels
In Heaven and with God
I bet you he still barbecues
He’s got a fishing rod”
Now it’s a Sunday afternoon
I look up at the sky
I know you’re fishing Daddy
With the angels at your side
I'd like to say that I haven't lost my Dad, but he's in the military, yes.
(Oh, and I'm Canadian, hence the color of the coffin)
Thanks,
No rude comments please, I just want to know what you think about it.Is this poem any good?absolutely lovely - well done you.
have u been writing poems for many years to write like this?
it flows along so well.
reminds me of Sylvia Plath poem to her Daddy.
Is this poem any good?Doesn't matter where ya from though i really enjoyed the poem as for it wouldnt partake to me neither for that all would just be a dream as it at times was for i grew up without my father
