Poetry: My dad

by Heather Quarry

You were the iron hand

that made my buttocks sting.

You were the roaring lion

that would never try to sing.

You were the bearer

of truths that I'd remember

from early January

through til late December.

You were the teacher.

I was the rebellious student.

You were the lecturer

of what was rightfully prudent.

I was the child

that learnt so much from you.

You were the man, my dad

that will be with me, til my life is through.

R.I.P

Helium, Inc.
200 Brickstone Square Andover, MA 01810 USA