Each sob shook me: 4336052. In the dim light Loss was tomorrow. This poem has not been translated into any other language yet. The pain of death is living, from I been there, sort of: New and Selected Poems (Carcanet, 2006), copyright Mervyn Morris 2006, used by permission of the author and the publisher. Reprinted/Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux. So, his passing was an emotionally intense convergence of death and birth, celebration and mourning. The day my father died I could not cry; My mother cried, Not I. A wonderful tribute to your father, a... Read complete story I love you dad, The day my father die. a great write indeed, Mary.10/10. The day my father died One day we will again say hi. Your poem was published on the day that my late father would have celebrated his 100th birthday in heaven. For me my father’s death The day my father die He held his bible by his bed side The life he prayed would never goHas gone and left him with no under toe So many things he did not complete Like the tree house, we were building across the street All we needed was the roofThe day's I thought would never end Have left me with something I can no longer comprehend As the wind blows The weather gets colder As my body grows I only get older Life is a story with no ending Who cares if they stop mending Know i'm old To old for child's play The tree house still sits With the memories of my golden days. Such a beautiful poem for Father's Day, Pat. Registered No. Maybe when I look up to the moon. Of all feeling. We saw him struggle, Not I. Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day (Sonnet 18). The Day My Father Died Poem by Mary Forrester - Poem Hunter, Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 7, 2013. You saw him trudging through the muddy furrows and came home when your sister said that your dad had died. Charity No. Beautifully done. THE DAY MY FATHER DIED. Wrote mourning to me, I saw him in the fields todayWith two horses and a ploughI Waved at him and said helloAnd he just mopped his browI stood there in silenceCould hear the horses breatheAs he trudged through the Muddy furrowsI began to leaveSlowly I was walking towardsThe valley down belowTo where the stone walled cottage stoodTo the place that I call homeThere, stood in the doorwayWas my sister RosaleeHer hair tied up with ribbons As she smiled across at meShe took my hand and said Let's have a cup of teaThereupon she shook her headAnd fell upon her kneesAnd through her sobs I heard her sayThat Dad had passed awayWe held each other tenderlyAnd cried until the dawnRemembering all those Precious times, now that Dad had gone. Like the tree house, we were building across the street. How much I did care for you. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge... Recite this poem (upload your own video or voice file). I hope I see you very soon. The Poetry Archive is a not-for-profit organisation with charitable status. The Day My Father Died poem by Mary Forrester. The face fell empty, Copyright © 2017 by The Estate of Bill Knott. We’re always adding to the Poetry Archive so sign up to our newsletter to keep up to date with the latest archive news, events and releases. 1093858. Was mother’s sorrow; It wasn't your time to die. Beautiful tribute to your dad Mary.Well done really terrific poem. It is unclear how! Poem by Chris Kril. We saw him struggle, Stiffen, relax; The face fell empty, Dead as wax. Has gone and left him with no under toe. I could not cry; Isn't 'him' of your poem and your dad the same person? From I Am Flying into Myself: Selected Poems 1960-2014 by Bill Knott, edited by Thomas Lux. Topple that lie, However appealing: I love this. “My father died a few days before Christmas in 2017. My mother’s tears were my tears, © Poems are the property of their respective owners. That face was absence I never got a chance to explain to you. He held his bible by his bed side. I’d read of death But never seen. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge... Recite this poem (upload your own video or voice file). Black and white. On the day my father died i should have been laughing it was April fools but the joke was too dear usually it would be a quip and we would roar in bogus laughter today it was an eternal slumber and we had to … The Day My Father Died Poem by Chris Kril - Poem Hunter, Poem Submitted: Friday, February 17, 2012. them then, I’d be like him, dad. My father’s face, I swear, Page The dead are free. The free tracks you can enjoy in the Poetry Archive are a selection of a poet’s work. I will read more of your poems. All we needed was the roof. your intense love for your father made you see his apparition. My father’s face, I swear, Was not serene. I saw him in the fields todayWith two horses and a ploughI Waved at him and said hello. His face on the pillow In the dim light Wrote mourning to me, Black and white. The life he prayed would never go. That day was her day, Topple that lie, Copyright © 2020 All rights reserved. There is no comment submitted by members.. © Poems are the property of their respective owners. His face on the pillow Was not serene. But never seen. This poem has not been translated into any other language yet. So many things he did not complete. Our catalogue store includes many more recordings which you can download to your device. A beautiful poem but a lovely tribute to your dad. Dead as wax.