.
At Thirteen
At thirteen, I received a birthday card
from Buffalo, my aunt sent my Dad’s poem
he’d written at thirteen. Our plain back yard
picnic table became a podium
as I savored every word… “Oh for a good
old Summer’s day / with no cares in my way.”
A fishing poem by a stream has stood
the test of time, planting a seed, a ray
of sunshine seething through the decades’ seasons.
How naive was I? But the blind can see,
I wonder if he knows? God has his reasons
That reeled me on to writing poetry.
Limned by shade trees, fish swimming in the stream;
and here while I write, I see him. I dream.
.
.
Lucia Haase has several books of poetry published and was recently included in a poetry anthology titled Symphonies of the Wild Hearted available on Amazon.com. She also recently had poetry accepted by several publications including Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, The Long Islander, Nostalgia Press, The Raven’s Perch, and POEM publication. She lives in Spring Valley, Illinois.



Dream on, Lucia!
Paddy
Thank you Paddy. I’ve managed to keep this
poem since I was 13, which was the age my Dad
wrote his poem.
Such a sweet story contained in a poem written with fondness and love. Bless your aunt for remembering to send such a letter with a poem and kindle your own love of poetry!
Hi Roy,
Little did I know at 13 that I would be writing poetry
later on in life. Appreciate your comments.
I enjoyed your poem, Lucia. What better way to encapsulate a fond memory is there than a poem.
Thanks for the read.
Thank you so much Paul. Much appreciated.
Lucia, I was wondering a few days ago when you might appear again. And here is a sonnet “of sunshine seething through the decades’ seasons.” I like the rhyming lines just as well: “God had his reasons/That reeled me on to writing poetry.” Both show marvelously effective and meaningfully nuanced use of alliteration and assonance. What a tribute to your father’s legacy! He himself was a wordsmith of clarity at the age of 13.
Thank you so much Margaret! I just saw this now. I apologize for replying so late.
Blessings to you,
Lucia