Iola Zaan

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
You guided us gently until we" were all grown
You accepted our partners as if they were your own
You loved all our children and as each of them say
If grandads were graded you'd be getting an 'A'
You always wanted to make our finances right
So you played on the Lotto on Saturday night
But strange as it seems we had already won
The honour of being your daughter or son
And as for the riches that were mentioned before
With you in our hearts we could never be poor

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

For a son I gave birth to seven decades ago
I was with him on earth until his late thirties or so
And let me say this, it is not a surprise
That he chose this location to say his goodbyes

For the boy that I knew from the day he was born
Would often come here at the breaking of dawn
He came here to fish, it's so peaceful you see
He would sit here all day, then come home for tea

He loved the outdoors for the freedom it gave
Scrumping for apples, finding conkers to save
He would swim before breakfast, he was up with the lark
And if picking mushrooms, he'd go off in the dark

He would find nature's treasures wherever he'd roam
He cherished his life with the earth as his home
He could name any creature, any plant, fish or bird
There were no bugs or insects of which he'd not heard

He would often watch storms as they crashed on the coast
He loved all types of weather but the wind he loved most
He respected the seasons keeping nature in line
Giving all living things their own lifespan or time

So it seems he considered in his winter of life
Where you'd scatter his ashes with his children and wife
And of all nature's wonders he found this to be best
Where the waters flow gently in a place he could rest

So I'm here for my boy, who was your special man
At the bridge where the river flows close to Rhos Llan
As you let the breeze take him, you are setting him free
To return to us both, Mother Nature and me.

Our Wonderful Dad

I recall at the age of approximately four
That I skipped by your side to the grocery store
And I said to you, "I found out we are rich"
"The poor little match-girl wears hardly a stitch"
"Her feet are all bare and she lives on the street"
"We are about to buy food and have shoes on our feet"
And all these years on I was astonished to find
That that simple moment has stayed in your mind
For the truth at that time was that money was tight
But you and our Mom had your priorities right

You're such a good father and not only to me
I know without doubt that my brothers agree
We look back at the times you would tell made-up tales
And summertime trips to your homeland in Wales
You helped with our studies being so smart and well-read
So much information is stored in your head
And if there were games that you couldn't afford
You made them yourself including the board

You made the oldest a game that you crafted with care
Not only a pitch but the football teams there
And each player's team-strip was painted by hand
And each player stood on his own special stand
You made me a jewel-box in white painted wood
It had music inside like a jewellery box should
The youngest played soldiers so you made him a tank
Worth much more to him than some coins in a bank

Dad, you were always concerned at what your wage could provide
Yet the treasures you gave us, they came from inside
You gave us the things that don't get broken or torn
Or damaged or weathered or battered or worn
So now we are talking of love and of help and of time
We return to the child at the start of this rhyme
The pre-schooler girl who though we were the elite
Because we lived in a house and we covered our feet
She is all grown up now and would like me to say
Dad, we found out we are rich in a different way

LEST WE FORGET

On barren land on western field
Where only sadness war can yield
On battle sites where none had grown
In fact the bravest seeds were sewn

The growing seeds marked out the plots
So fate could choose by drawing lots
Each man and boy to lay down their lives
As a sacrifice so we might live and thrive

Whilst the earth tended her plants of scarlet shade
We listed fallen men in case their crosses fade
Each name a fleeting memory of our own nation's pride
But the earth remembered every man on either side

Men from each nation missing and never found
All those unknown soldiers taken by the ground
The soil knew them all and was planning a parade
To show all were accounted for and none had been mislaid

The earth grieved that many of her sons were dead
She cried floral tears for every man in vibrant red
She sends flowers every year, she hasn't missed one yet
Poppies bloom forever for each man, lest we forget

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

There are some that think they're really great
Some used in anger and some in hate
Some that think they're really cool
Some that like to break the rules

Some we say just for a laugh
Some we can only spell by half
Some misunderstood or turned around
The ones we search that can't be found

Some can make us look a fool
Whilst some are wielded as a tool
Best are those that can express
Our love, our joy and happiness

Some dipped in poison, some uttered in haste
Some of them jesters, some just bad taste
Some are dressed up, some cloaked in veils
Attempting to hide what their intention entails

Some show compassion in the struggles of life
Comforting others through hardship and strife
Some count our blessings, whether many or few
Some have one meaning while others have two

There are fiercer types, and the ones that we tame
To wrap up a feeling or extinguish a flame
To package a message tied up with a bow
To share information our loved ones should know

Some with precision can show that we care
To whisper support, to confirm we are there
Some are shared freely without holding back
Providing the warmth that the silence can lack

Carefully chosen with the caution deserved
They can tell our story with the moral preserved
If we choose them with care before written or said
We won't need a picture to express them instead