I saw a face in setting sun
that I adored, a face so old
in quietness, but young in looks.
I heard a voice in evening prair
that I found dear, a voice so young
in timelessness, but old in words.
It was your face, it was your voice,
Papa. I dreamt of you last night.
 | Colin Morley on The man becomes my father |
 | clinock on Inside the mess |
 | Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Pass it on |
| Ina on Mazed |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
| Ina on Inside the mess |
 | kvennarad on Inside the mess |
| clinock on Inside the mess |
 | lscotthoughts on Pass it on |
| lscotthoughts on Mazed |
Comments on: "Your face, your voice" (12)
ontroerend geschreven, mooi en weemoedig.
lieve groetjes, Francina
Dank je wel Francina, lieve groetjes terug!
Very touching, Ina, very evocative and I’m sure it strikes a chord among all of us.
Hi David, thank you.
We all have those emotions…
Ina this is just lovely.
I occasionally dream about my father and he is always young and active. Tha’ts how I like to remember him
Love and hugs xx
Hi Christine, thank you. Your dreams are similar to mine! During anesthetics when I had operations, I dreamt of him very vividly, and we had enormous arguments, like in real life.
I changed “Father” here into “Papa” because I never called him father.
Love and hugs xxx
Beautiful tribute Ina. I often dream of my mother. She holds a special place in my memories.
Thank you Walter, that is nice, I think those dreams are special too
So touching and lovely, Ina – very beautiful!
Hi Angela, thank you very much!
How moving, Ina…how simply and lovingly expressed.
Thank you very much Diane
I am so pleased you read all these poems of mine and find the time to comment!