I Love Poetry

Inspired by Fungirl's writing challenge this week.



For Life is No Rehearsal


With avid hope, I blew that clock,
My cheeks puffed under the strain.
With eyes alight and desire so great,
I wished and wished again.

I never told, so it should’ve worked,
The secret tucked away.
But a bit like prayer, it failed each time,
With defeat, I returned to play.

At eight years old I wanted love,
Acceptance for being me.
My father’s arms to embrace me warm,
As he sat me on his knee.

I wished so hard but to no avail,
I eventually gave up hoping.
I muddled through those innocent days,
At times, just barely coping.

The rift grew wider over years,
But my resilience it grew strong.
I’d never done a single thing
That deemed as ‘very wrong’.

Strange things happened the week before,
My father passed away.
I watched him weaken and held his hand,
And rubbed his pain away.

I spoke to him in gentle voice,
This rift, it needed smoothing.
He’d probably never listened before,
And he told me I was ‘soothing’.

So now he’s gone I blow the clock,
And wish for time reversal.
Remember, wisely use your time,
For life is no rehearsal.



©penny noodles