So, this poem is part of my poetry collection in my writer's portfolio, which I handed in as a final project last semester for Writer's Craft. I admit, it's there are some sentences and words and rhyming which still need some improvement, and I'll work on that soon. However, I am incredibly, surprisingly proud of this piece for some reason and I'd just like to post it up here.
I admit that I, like many other poets, write from experience and inspiration. And while I've never had a father like this or any of the sweet memories which I penned for the poem's 'protagonist', somewhere, deep inside, something sweet, something lovely, something wonderful persuaded me to write it. I suppose that's one of the reasons why I am proud of this poem; being able to pour in genuine emotion and feeling into something as sentimental and personal as that when I have had no life experience that should even inspire that.
I have no regrets. The poem may or may not have that genuine emotion or feeling depending on each reader. I'm no pro English teacher or seasoned writer but as the author of this poem, I can tell you one thing for sure and that is I love this piece, and everything about it. Well, that is, except the minor structure and rhyming and syllable issues. Asdfkjghfgdfg... I have got to fix them.
Buuuuut.... yeah, I'll stop ranting now, and let you judge for yourself this poem of mine.
My Father's Child
by Esther Ng
He lifts me up and swings me around
A spin that makes me laugh
Decked in ribbons and a summer dress
He says I’m the prettiest little princess in town.
First day of school and my face scrunches up
A puckered mouth with two moistened eyes
He bends down with a smile, and gives me a hug
He remained by my side, even far past goodbyes.
It is six-thirty, and the sun is setting
With us on the platform, my suitcase he’s carrying
He’s chivalrous, indeed, with a bittersweet grin
Yet he walks along my window, reluctant to release the moving train.
He always liked to say I had his brain
Sharp and nimble, perfect for studying
Every week there was a funny letter
Making me smile as I read about him and Mother.
And when my man got down on one knee
He said to me with tears of joy
“I’ll give you away, but on that day
Promise me I’ll walk you down the aisle.”
And now as I walk the flowered lane
A thought hangs thoroughly through the while
That though I am to be a dame
I’ll always be my father’s child.
***
On another note, I would just like to add that I might have been unconsciously inspired by the song "Butterfly Kisses" by Bob Carlisle. The funny thing is, I was reciting my poem when I began to wonder why I felt as if I've heard something like this before. I wasn't thinking, or even remembering, let alone listening to the song when I wrote my poem(I wrote it in a computer lab at school, talk about serene settings. Bah.) but when I looked the song up... my word, what similarities they held. Hmm, I hope I don't get sued for plagiarism or copyright if my poem ever surfaces somewhere.
... I've done some thinking. And now I beg to differ my previous argument.
Perhaps I wasn't unconsciously inspired by that old song. Perhaps my own contrasting memories inspired me to write what I would have wanted, and craved for in a father. Perhaps I know I would never get the lovely, sentimental, sweet father that every girl deserves(my dad is ASIAN. Literally. In literal, literal sense. Gotta accept that XD )... but maybe, just maybe, I'll get to see that one day for my own child. And she would have the happiness of having such a father, and the joy of experiencing those beautiful memories that would last her a lifetime.
Dear me, suddenly I've gotten sentimental and soft. THIS WON'T DO.
My next post shall be about something harsh. Like, sharks or something. Yup, sharks are tough, rough, and hardcore. Sheesh, what on earth came over me? I've turned from a rock to a... a... marshmallow!
Darn.
