Oh, here I am again, last-minuting for a Monday poem. I was delighted to know the theme as early as Tuesday, but then nothing much ever cooked itself up in my head for writing down over the weekend. I think Chris's theme of Father needs more than a couple of days to stew. In lieu of a good poem, here is a morning train poem.
On hands and knees in the living room
three offspring, riding
Giddy-up!
Dadhorse rules the range.
That's my dad playing with us kids when we were little enough to fit all three on his back. My mom took a nice photo of us, and I'm not at all sure it was the same event, but from my side I remember a dadhorse ride around the living room where (at four or thereabouts) I lost control and peed on him. Sorry, Dad!
For more takes on Father, click on over to the Poetry Jam!
9 comments:
Dadhorse! It's perfect!
OMG, it's been years since I thought of "riding a horse" on someone's back. Thanks for the memory. I seem to recall also the horse was allowed to buck off the rider, so long as the arena made for a soft landing...
smiles. i am going to have back problems when i get older from all the horsey-ing around with my two boys...nicely played...and hey i just posted so i am later than you...smiles.
ahhh nancy i was a dadhorse for several years and luckily no one did much more than spit-up on me. i really appreciate the sending-me-back this poem accomplished. steven
Oh so good! The dadhorse here is getting rather weary these days, and finding it hard to manage two at once.
Dadhorse - wonderful! I'm sure he forgave you long ago:-)
I love it! I spit up on my dad once, but I was about 3 months old, so not culpable. He was holding me aloft & there I went. Right into his mouth. Eww!
Yup...that's a common Dad role. When my son was only 5 he broke my finger by leaping on the horse unexpectedly.
Says it all in the fewest words possible. What more could anyone want?
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