Sunday, 14 March 2010


I decided to tell you


when my Dad

walked up the beach

in baggy shorts and sandals

on his last ever holiday

he was fascinated by pebbles, shells,

people passing in bright shirts

and he smiled in the sun

taking all the time

in the world to

walk and look:


I decided to tell you.


  1. Simple, yet so evocative. What a beautiful poem. You just began to follow me and I am so happy at the introduction to your work. Please feel free to join me on my creative journey by visiting my website as well.

  2. My father luckily is still with us (and in relatively good health at 81), but about ten years ago he and my older brother and I got together to play golf for the first time in years (my brother and I grew up playing golf with our father). We had a great day, but it didn't occur to me then that it'd be the last time, almost certainly, that the three of us would do something we'd done hundreds (thousands?) of times before. When I think of that day, I have feelings very similar to how this poem makes me feel. Perhaps it's best that I was ignorant of the outing's significance at the time -- I doubt I would've enjoyed it so much, thinking all the time that it was the final such outing for us.