Iola Zaan

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About Iola Zaan

I think I inherited my love of words from my father. He didn't write but read every day of his life from as long as he could remember. He loved that I assigned made up words when I was too young to know a word for something, it reaffirmed to him the power of words and how much I needed them then. He kept a dictionary and thesaurus in the living room, always. Although my father never wrote any stories, he made them up all the time. He encouraged that I wanted to write mine down and to play with words in poetry. He loved reading poetry.

I lost my way in my teens especially with regards to academia. Once my teens were well behind me I discovered nursing and midwifery which saved me and returned me to school.

My parents were pleased, though continued to believe in me as a writer, giving books on writing as gifts and wanting to read any poems I wrote.

When my father was dying, I gave him a poem I had written about him. He shared it with some of the nurses. When he passed away, one of the nurses found it in bed with him and gave it to me. I read it and its sequel at his funeral and another when we scattered his ashes. With the addition of poems written or read out by the grandchildren it was comforting to know that he would have appreciated his funeral.
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    Poems by Iola Zaan

  • In Memory Of Dad

    Just wanting to share another poem that I wrote in honour of my very loved father. I think the sentiments may resemble that of others who have lost their father even if not in the exact same way. This is the worst thing that happened to me so far, yet I am fortunate to have had a little time with him before he passed. I can't even imagine how it would be to lose a parent suddenly. I don't think I could have written a thing had I been in that situation.

    • pending
    • Posted on 03/19/19

    in Loss of Father Poems

    You read the last poem, but have since passed away
    So the tense has to change, but the sentiments stay
    You were such a good father to all of us three
    The very best father a person could be

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    • Votes 10
    • Rating 3.70
  • TWO MOTHERS

    Carrying out the wishes of a loved one who loved nature. Believing that they will be at peace and reunited with his earth mother who has passed and with Mother Earth.

    • pending
    • Posted on 01/27/19

    in Loss of Father Poems

    I am here as a mother, my husband's here too
    And most of you here, I'm related to you
    I came here today at the front of your thoughts
    As you all gather here for a ritual of sorts

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    • Votes 10
    • Rating 3.90
  • Our Wonderful Dad

    I wrote this poem when my father was dying. It wasn't unusual for me to write them but I wanted to express my gratitude to him as a father. I know he read it and treasured it and it was inside his bed when he passed away. I loved him so much and always will. Poetry helped me at this sad time. I hope your poems help you express your emotions too, especially at sad times such as this

    • pending
    • Posted on 12/17/18

    in Loss of Father Poems

    Our Wonderful Dad

    I recall at the age of approximately four
    That I skipped by your side to the grocery store

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    • Votes 10
    • Rating 3.80
  • LEST WE FORGET

    A poem for Poppy Day - my grandfather fought in both wars and dedicated a lot of time in later years to the British legion. I wanted to remember from the point of view that men and boys were lost from each side, that to the earth they are all lost and worth remembering.

    • pending
    • Posted on 10/27/18

    in Short Poems

    LEST WE FORGET

    On barren land on western field
    Where only sadness war can yield

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    • Votes 4
    • Rating 4.25
  • A Picture Or A Thousand Words?

    Just sharing a love of words and thinking of the power of words. Let's face it, we are all on here because we love words. We appreciate how using the right words can convey our thoughts, beliefs and emotions.

    • pending
    • Posted on 09/24/18

    in Creative Poems

    They're quite uncomfortable alone
    It's in a group they feel at home
    It makes us squirm when one slips out
    Or feels the need to make one shout

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    • Votes 4
    • Rating 3.00
  • View All Poems by Iola Zaan

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