Family Traits by Debra Dando

My father thought outside the box,
Pursuing varied ventures,
If he had had more business sense,
He could have gained such treasures!

My mother had no confidence -
Often worrying about opinion,
She did what others thought was best,
Even in her own dominion.

My uncle was an artist,
He lived a merry life,
He never had much money
And never took a wife.

My husband is a pessimist
And often wears a frown,
He always anticipates the worst
And sometimes gets me down.

My daughter is a realist
And strives hard to achieve,
I hope, one day, she'll reach her goals
And happiness conceive.

Me? - the eternal optimist-
I see the good in all,
I do not follow passing trends,
Poetry and nature hold my soul.

Our Parents - Experts or Trainees?

I often think back to my relationships with my parents, how they changed over the years and how different experiences molded and shaped my perceptions and memories.

At one time my dad could do no wrong; until he accidentally hit my thumb with a hammer when I was helping him do a job in the garage.

Mum? She was a true master of the kitchen, turning out wonderful cakes and biscuits, often taken for granted, but sorely missed when she was no longer well enough to do her own cooking ... and finally no longer with us.

I often look back over these often turbulent times and remember that through it all they were my mum and dad; making mistakes, as I now do with my own children; trying to be this thing called a parent without any formal training other than 'on the job'.

Although, they were flawed, like I am flawed, I somehow saw beyond their failings and looked-up to them just because they were mum and dad. I often wish that I could look through my own mistakes and the mistakes of others and love the person underneath; warts and all.

I recently received a poem from a lady who obviously experienced similar tensions, trials and no doubt, exasperation with her father ... but beneath, he was still 'dad' and she still loved him for who he was in spite of what he did. Enjoy ...


To My Late Dad

Oh dad you would still not be too old
to debate and triumph in this world!
To still play host, mentor and guide
- you should still be here at our side.
Elders thought sons would live on
- so devastated now you're both gone.
A whole life's story you have missed,
a generation never held or kissed!
Your doctor warned you well I think
of over-indulgence in food and drink
But no, you failed to take advice
even when threatened once or twice.
Cutting back, you said, no option
rich food, fine wine intoxication.
Life so full of such temptations
would not submit to deprivations.
But dad, you would still not be too old
to be loved and cherished in this world.

Copyright © December 2007 Debra Dando

Hot Air Balloons

One of the joys of running the Friendship is a Verb website is that visitors occasionally send me their poems (along with a load of spammers that send me all sorts of unrepeatable offers!!).

It is my intention to publish these poems on this blog rather than the website so that you can all enjoy them and pass on your own comments and encouragement.

Here is a poem I received today from Debra Dando. Enjoy ...

Hot Air Balloon Invasion

The hound will not abate his incessant woof
but summons me urgently outside to look.
A balloon glides by
in the perfect blue summer sky.
Brightly coloured it cheers the air,
sailing over the village - I simply stand and stare.
Its calmness and serenity I admire, as this stately visitor ascends higher
and passes reverently over the old church spire.

Next door’s feline declines to stir,
basking on her terrace with sun-warmed fur.
Even birds in the bushes ignore the fiery whooshes
as the balloon floats regally by.

The herd on the hill do not panic or stampede,
the sheep continue grazing down in the mead
But the hound lies not still -
he protects his territory with great earnest until
The invading sphere clears his space;
he's completely untouched by its grace.
Though vigilant and brave 'tis true,
Dear Friend, I wish that you could sometimes see things as we do.