Two for Dad
Blackberry…
In it together:
conspiring against bramble,
holding down a spray
of beauties for me to pick,
showing how leaves
hide choicest fruit.
Finding docks to cool
nettled flesh, stained,
battlescarred, spoils dangling
in baskets, on handlebars,
we ride our triumph home.
…Pies
We dare not go through the kitchen
when you bake. There is
deftness, artistry at work.
The pies are crammed
with blackberries, plump
with pleasure at being picked.
a line of flour on your jumper
from rolling out.
The pinched edges of pastry
seal the boozy juice.
You cut large slices
to offer me.
from Dandelions for Mothers’ Day (Stride 1988)
One of the poems I wrote about my lovely dad, Peter Lightfoot, who died when I was 24. THis poem is included in my new selection Letting Go, which will be coming out from Mothers Milk Press. I miss my dad every day and will never forget him.
Angela Topping 
Angela,
Such precious scenes from long ago, so vividly recalled. We have a sense of your dad’s loving presence, as known to you – and we almost taste the blackberries! A delicious, happy poem that leaves a warm glow. Nice pic too.
Having lost my dad last year, I appreciate your poem greatly and feel my own memories stirring. Of course I loved the fuss made of me by my wonderful children and grandchildren on Father’s Day. I know myself a lucky guy, as your dad must have known himself too.
Good luck with ‘Letting Go’ – I shall be after a signed copy!
Take care,
Paul
Thank you Paul. Your support and kindness mean a lot to me! I’ve just had the proofs of Letting Go!