Hallo Avery Body,
I wrote this many years ago. It began as foot notes for a story I wanted to write. But I ended up writing a poem instead. However, there is a story which came from it. And I'll probably be posting when we get back from our vacation in Tennesse. Hope ya'll like it.
LUV-U-ALL
Peter
“SOUL TO SOUL”
I knew a man.
Knew him since,
before I was born.
I knew this man,
by many different names.
But for me,
there was only,
but one name.
I always did,
and I always will,
call this man,
my Poppa.
As a child,
when I was asked,
why this and not,
Father, Daddy, or Dad.
I would simply say,
because he's special.
Oh, so very special,
to me.
When I grew older,
and I was asked,
why is he so special.
I would simply say,
because he makes,
ME feel so special.
Oh, so very special,
to him.
Than one day,
as I entered my home,
I saw my worse fear,
in my Mommies tears.
As she said to me,
your Poppa is,
no longer near.
Oh, Mommie please,
can you tell me,
why did my Poppa leave.
Thru weeping eyes,
she said to me,
death is only one of,
GOD'S many mysteries.
Oh, Mommie I don't want to be mystified,
I just want to know why,
oh, why did my Poppa die.
He always told me,
“Neither the havens from above,
nor the fires from down below,
could never, ever part our SOULS.”
Oh, Mommie, Mommie please,
I don't want to be mystified,
I just want to know, why,
oh, why, did my Poppa have to die.
I knew him well,
this man I call,
Poppa.
The love of us,
and for the things,
that we did.
He believed in hugs, kisses,
and tender fare wells.
Just in leaving for work,
or saying good night,
right before bed.
This he believed,
as we all do.
And he practiced it,
religiously as we all should.
A day never went by,
that I didn't hear,
" I love you, "
coming into my tender ears.
I will always remember,
how he loved to hear me play.
Music from my flute,
would make his whole day.
“Music unites our spirits,
even if we are separated,
miles and miles apart,” he would say.
If ever I was lonesome,
or feeling blue.
If ever I needed comfort,
or to be reassured,
“I need only to air my flute.”
Dedicated to My Girls.
By Peter Collins/Poppa
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love this Pete, really special.
ReplyDeleteI always love the way the girls called you poppa and Larry's kids called him poppy, really special.
Roddie called ronnie deda until he started school and realized this was backwards. now when he wants something he'll still call him deda...
AGAIN ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL WRITING. BRO WHY DID YOU HID THIS FOR SO LONG AND WHY DIDN'T YOU TRY TO HAVE THESE PUBLISHED? YOU PROBABLY SITTING ON A GOLD MINE WITH THIS AND DON'T KNOW IT! THIS IS MY FAVORITE SO FAR AND THE DEDICATION IS VERY SPECIAL.
ReplyDeleteTHANKS AGAIN, BROTHER
RONNIE
Thank both of you for your kind words and your belief that these writtings are something special. I never thought of anything I write as being special except to me. No one except Cheryl, Aleena and Emily has ever read anything I have written. I take that back, Rosie has read some of them when she was working in my daiquiri shop. But I don't write for recognition. I do it just because I like to. A lot of it is how I think other people would fell and try to express it in kind of a weird way. Weird may not be the exact word I'm looking for. It's hard for me to explain. But thank both of you for your appreciation of what you have read. I hope you will continue enjoying my writtings.
ReplyDeleteRonnie, as for publishing any of this, well I don't believe anything I write is worth publishing. But if you want to pursue trying to get any of this stuff published you have my blessing. I wouldn't even know where to start. Like I said, I just like to write. For what ever it's worth.
Thanks Again,
LUV-U-BOAT,
Peter