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One day, I’ll tell you
your father’s first words;
how he gazed at you,
wrinkled and slick, then
said softly, in wonder:
‘there is love at first sight’.

You were nameless for weeks;
he explained –
as friends shook their heads –
that due care must be taken,
choosing something
you’d wear forever.

At school you may read
(or find on your own)
the words of a poet who
wandered lonely as a cloud,
preserving in memory a field of beauty,
to nourish him constantly.

The good times won’t always roll,
so let’s gather these up,
preserve them safely, place them
with the ones you’ll collect later
when you discover the magic
of de-archiving daffodils.

(edited to remove the annoying alliteration in the first stanza)

lovely to read
and inspiring, but I do hope he wasn't named daffodils

...and what's wrong with Daffodil? Dandelion? Horsetail?

(hands on hip)

imaginary friend wrote:...and what's wrong with Daffodil? Dandelion? Horsetail?

(hands on hip)

I wrote daffodils and not daffodil. The symbols for the first is often pleasant but for the second it is misfortune. But the problem with the first is that wordsworth wrote that poem about them and now we may never stop to consider that we know so little about daffodils and what might be their unique ecological function on this planet. I want to make my little stand for the rights of the daffodils to be appreciated truly for what they are.

I want to make my little stand for the rights of the daffodils to be appreciated truly for what they are.

Are you suggesting that you, Jack, are some sort of ".....dil.." too?
Reflecting on the sunny moments of our lives.

de-archiving daffodils

that's a great expression/line i.f.

"One day, I'll tell you"
If this is a true story, then I suppose you will just hand the poem over to him?

Mat.

mat james wrote: Are you suggesting that you, Jack, are some sort of ".....dil.." too?
Reflecting on the sunny moments of our lives.

not just when reflecting on the sunny moments.

Sit down on my memory
when you are in pain
when you are in pleasure
sit down on it again
L. Cohen

wrinkled and slick, then
said softly, in wonder:
‘there is love at first sight

Wrinkled and slick - what a perfect description for a baby just born.
I very much like this image of a man looking at his new child and falling in instant love.

Cate wrote:
Wrinkled and slick - what a perfect description for a baby just born.
I very much like this image of a man looking at his new child and falling in instant love.

It reminds me of falling in instant love. Ever since I was a young boy I wanted to be a wise old man, wrinkled and slick.

Well new born babies and very old men (older then Leonard) certainly have their charm - it's hard not to fall in love with either.

I really liked your poem imaginary friend
I found it very sweet and flowery

Thank you Jack, Mat, Cate and Flynote for your comments. (Sorry for the tardy response. Yesterday I was busy BBQing for six fathers – none of them mine – and their families, at my house...)

Flynote, I resolved not to take a leaf from your editing book (It should be called 'morphing in your case, rather than editing ); decided instead to take Cate's excellent advice re. leaving it be for a while. I did edit out some alliteration as noted, and in that process, accidentally de-archived an old 'daffodil' – a joke that used to amuse us as schoolchildren living on a Caribbean island where we were encouraged to strive for using 'the Queen's English', instead of our charming Creole dialect. We'd chant:

(Child:)
'Teacher, 'arry took a 'ammer an' 'it mi on mi 'ead!'

(Teacher:)
'Hemphasize yu' haiches, yu hignorant hass!'

Let me know if you need a Q.E. translation

imaginary friend wrote: decided instead to take Cate's excellent advice re. leaving it be for a while.

I have a question for you before you leave it be. Whatever made you think that the good times won't always roll?

Sometimes they come to a dead halt... but with a bit of TLC, maybe they will start rolling again
...kinda like Jack's Magic Carnival caravan, or Mat's Rusty Old and Beautiful truck. (or Violet's elipses)


PS: Thanks for warming my heart.

Sun