20 Lines A Day

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One Special Poem

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Prolific, he wrote poems, published books,
ideas flowed like waterfalls, not brooks.
My father wrote of nature, music, art,
most in poetic form, sharp as a dart.

He chose his words with utmost care to tell
the stories stirring in his head, to spell
ideas with suspense and tension. Four
weeks after he had died I found some more

of his fine poems. One, though, brought my tears.
Its subject? Me as little girl. He’d not
shared it. I wondered why. Emotion shot
through me. I read this poem. My dad nears.

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Author: Maggie

I am a retired language arts teacher from the Midwest who has published a book of poems. I write poetry in the classic forms. My reading interests are non-fiction, especially in the areas of medicine and spirituality. I am a pianist, and also enjoy word puzzles and games.

One thought on “One Special Poem

  1. Tis golden, indeed, to have had a dear, sweet Daddy to write poetry for his little daughter…

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