I remember when you took me camping;
I remember when we two went fishing;
I remember watching shows of Mr. Wayne,
Manly movies that did we two much gain.
I remember plaining cedar wood,
Work that taught me hardships can be good.
I remember how we fixed your bedroom,
How you taught me how to use the broom;
Also when you bought me my first saw,
And when you told me stories to my awe,
Of hunting deer, the feats and deeds you did;
But also, I remember actions you forbid,
And when you taught me how to shield a women;
And which to pick between the arm and pen.
Memories fade but these are here to say,
I’ll remember all these to my ending day.
Memories made my mind and who I am,
Time with you has shaped the paths I ran,
All the ways I've walked and thus have thought,
And all the actions I’ll go on to wrought.
Daring deed of valor proving prowess,
The things I’ll do in face of laurels soundless.
Fathers like the fates determined all our ways,
Fate of doom; Fates also like the glinting rays,
Who shine a light of wisdom, love, and pride
As sons attempt on tempest waves to ride.
I can’t imagine all the ways you wrought,
And all the things of good for me you sought,
Mistry shell it remain until I too,
Have a son of all my own as like to you.
Not a word is used to simply make it rhyme, only want to be poets to that. Not even the word broom, all of the content has a special meaning to me and my father.
I love rhyming poetry but as your footnote alludes to, it has to have a point otherwise it just comes across as contrived and forced and that is not poetic. This is. I found the whole piece a real pleasure to read, both in its warmth, content and flow. Your father sounds like a special man.