My Dad and Me

He walked with me through the wheat fields

when I was very small.

He showed me how to rub the ripe heads

when the plants were golden and tall

so magically seeds would appear from the chaff.

It was something I’ll never forget.

An aroma of memory,

of a time of standing amongst the harvest

of millions of wheat seeds, and my Dad and me.

He stood with me under the Southern Cross

when the sun had gone to bed.

A blanket of starlight above us

stretched for forever over my head

reaching back over time and space.

It was something I’ll never forget.

Experiencing eternity,

and a time of standing under the cover

of millions of candles, and my dad and me.

We swam in the Great Ocean.

Between his legs I dove.

He taught me to do the ‘dead man’s float’.

And to teach me to swim he strove

to show me frog kick and then to float on my back.

It was something I’ll never forget.

Learning how to swim with ease,

lost in the joy of floating between

millions of water drops, and my Dad and me.

He woke me in the early hours

to view it on TV.

The reception, it was pretty poor

and ‘snow’ made it difficult to see

brave men thousands of miles from home.

It was something I’ll never forget.

Those men making history,

dancing up there upon the moon

while watched by millions, and my dad and me.

He read to and with me and explained to me often

titbits of data and facts.

He was awed by science and nature.

And taught that we paid for our acts

when we destroyed creation with technology.

It is something I’ll never forget.

The passing on to me,

well informed insights and common sense

through millions of wisdom whits, from my dad to me.

I sat at his service, devastated and lost.

His face no more to see.

I sit by his grave and talk to him still

about wheat, astronauts and TV

while I remember the harvest the ocean and stars.

They are something I’ll never forget.

Those marvellous things that he taught to me

absolve the grief and melancholy

of millions of tear drops, for my dad from me.