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A perfect Sunday… as perfect Sundays go
The skies the barometer, tend to set the mood
This day clouds…oh, so wooly white
Like sheep grazing… among the blossom blue
Sunshine’s accents must be added too

Dad, magnificent in his Sabbath greys
Mom in dress’s pastels pink
I and brother with our ties
Sisters in their outfits…Scarlet lemon rainbow’s paint

This a special day
Mass now ending, bells chiming, Excitements begin to Spark
It’s time to sail…dad’s new fashioned built boat
 Led by thrills, kids sprint across the streets…and into the park

We cheer him on… cheering!
“Go dad, go”!!
Watching with our eyes filled anticipations
He sets her onto placid waters…hoping she will float

Harmonious sighs, of wonder, escape our lips
As the canvas streamers now pervaded… capture air
Cutting… through the glistening sun filled surface
Waves of spectators rippling to pond’s edge, begin to stop and stare

I silently break and turn…
And glance upon that man
Like the mast of his vessel, stands proud
I think to myself “that’s my dad”

Then, suddenly thoughts be broken
By clatters and whispers of new heard commotions
On his face a frown begins to grow, as I looked towards the lake
Taken was the wind right, out of his sails…and it lay in the midst of the pool… devoid of any motion

Disenchantment surely to be had
Spreading through crowds that were growing thin
But, the unexpected, was what happened next
In his Sunday best, my dad… he walked right in!

My whole family now, especially mom
Utterly and completely aghast!
Little brother shouting! “Go, dad, go”!
The crowd returned, the water rising to his chest

Roars of encouragement and rounds of applause
As waterlines reached engulfing his neck
The childhood memory forever stained into my head
Was of dad splashing out… soaking wet!
The schooner under one arm, his contagious laughter to us spread
His Sabbath grey suit was now absolutely wrecked!

Like I said...
It was a perfect Sunday…
In the eyes of this little boy

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Submitted on May 01, 2011

1:41 min read

Nighttiger Claim this poet

A fortyish native born all American man. Married twice and for the last time. I have four children; Three daughters and one son that are all over the age of eighteen. I also have two grandchildren; one three years old and one nine months old. Inspired by God, tragedy, life's experiences and then a fairy tale love. I never intentionally set out to write poetry, but "She" inspired me. "She" meaning the love of my life. That love is a passion that after thirteen years still grows stronger each and every day. It eventually had to be put into writing. As I wrote poetry to her, she encouraged me to approach other subjects. Doing so brought me to discover that poetry could wash away the bitter tastes of life (suicide, cancer, and divorce) that were still living like demons inside me. So when poetic therapy brought those impish fiends to a stalemate, I began to experiment more. Creating fictional characters and situations within my works. The support of this online community has inspired me even further to continue to hone my writing skills giving the readers the best that I can offer. Thanks to all you out there in Lulu land. more…

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    "SABBATH SCHOONER" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 15 May 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/83332/sabbath-schooner>.

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