Genetics

[Delta40]

Embedded in the shelves
of your self-help collection
I know there is a book
written just for me.
I can't stand there
in the dusty sadness
lest you hear me sneeze.
Let me slip into that room
of black and white
where a forties family
sits down to a Sunday roast
and Daddy tickles his favourite gal.
I can hold my breath
till you tell me
there are no first editions left
and I must make do with fiction.
As if I was once a small child
with ribbons in her hair.
As if I was ever the apple
of my Daddy's eye.
I've seen my hand claw at
the patterns in the wood,
those intricate shapes
carved in the bookcase.
Gradually,
they will all disappear.

[Bar22do]

What a Daddy, indeed... I'm not sure you need the last two lines, Delta. For me "carved in the bookcase" ends the poem beautifully.

[hillwalker]

Always a provocative topic to explore - you do a great job implying the truth behind the fiction of family life.

H

[MystyrMystyry]

You capture the dusty past brilliantly, memories and wonders full of faded and transformed colour, one of your best Delta :)

there are no first editions left
and I must make do with fiction

Nice

[Delta40]

Thank you. I wanted to do more with this poem but was worried more would be less.

[SkyCetacean]

The bookcase of memories, fiction imbued with reminiscence. That's a beautiful topic, I think this is a wonderful poem. ^^ Thanks for sharing.

[kittypaws]

Delta....a very sad poem but done extremely well.

I agree more would have been less...I am still trying to learn that theory.

:)

kittypaws

[Delta40]

Thanks SkyCetacean