Poetryexampleskiki

Once upon some years ago

A boy named Bob was born.

By the age of two I think Bob knew

His finger could perform.

At first it was quite innocent

When as a tiny boy

Bob pointed at hs mother

To fetch for him a toy.

It didn't take much time to see

Bob's finger held great power,

And he'd delight as his mother jumped

As he'd point at things for hours.

But soon that game grew tedious;

Bob longed for bigger things.

He felt his finger had come of age

And it was time to sprout its wings

So it seemed to Bob quite logical

That his father should be next,

And what a lucky boy he'd be

With two parents that could fetch.

But that's when Bob learned early on

Not all would love his finger,

As his dad's face went from pink to red

And his ears blew out smoke ringers.

But this did not discourage Bob,

For HE knew there were others

Who'd fall under the finger's spell

And jump just like his mother.

Each year his finger gained more strength

And the pointing just got stronger,

And to those who fell beneath the spell,

To them the point seemed longer.

Bob learned to wield his finger

Like a cowboy would a gun.

He practiced first on common folks

But found doctors much more fun.

Though his finger did precede him,

For words Bob never groped.

We're just glad he never had

A chance to meet the Pope!

By now you probably wonder

How this story affects me.

You see, I am Bob's daughter

And his devoted "A-pointee."

So many poignant memories

Fill up my mind with visions,

Like when he made ME his remote

For his remoteless television.

I think most times I pleased him

But at times I'd disappoint,

And that's the time his finger

Would get quite "out of joint."

Today I am much older

And I live so far from home,

And I miss that pointing finger,

That weapon on a bone.

But Dad uses it to phone me

And we're such great friends today,

And if I really need my dad,

He's just a point away.

KiKi

The Pointing Finger

Long before you drew a breath

For you God had a plan:

With roads to travel and then unravel

With no map to understand.

Though it’s God who does design us

His blueprint doesn’t bind us,

If only Jeff you knew

There was no one else like you.

On you God placed a gentle smile

That stole the hearts of many,

Then added eyes that rivaled skies

You won’t find those on many.

Perhaps God thought, “A lovely face

Most surely needs a frame,”

So haloed ringlets soon became

Your flowing trademark mane.

But the beauty that most people missed

Was the treasure deep within,

Of a gentle soul with a heart of gold

And compassion with no end.

For like a silent soldier

Who fights behind the lines,

You touched souls and you saved lives

And that made you divine.

For a true success is not assessed

By the wealth one does accrue,

But how you loved your fellow man

And in turn how they loved you.

You were so loved, beloved son

By your Father and your Mother,

And cherished so by Jenn and Jim,

Your sister and your brother.

And then there are the rest of us,

Your true and loyal fans.

And strangers we will never know

Made you the richest man.

If love could make the spirit stay

We know you’d never leave,

But God said, “Jeff, it’s time to go

I need you here with me.”

Jeff

We pray that you will hear our words

From the heavens high above,

“Jeff, you’ll be forever missed

And forever you’ll be loved.”

KiKi

Look at me, this tiny boy,

A face so full of grace,

With sweet brown eyes and rosy cheeks

On such a lovely face.

And underneath this suit of fleece

Lay tiny angel wings,

But sometimes underneath my hat

Lay other horned things.

My parents thought me such a dear

And so did all their friends -

Until I licked my chocolate toy

That stuck to their rear ends.

Ah, yes, the memories unfold

Of that dear and special time

I locked my sitter in our outhouse

For hours at a time.

I remember how his pleading voice

Turned slowly into rage

As he struggled with his breathing

In the deep and dusky cage.

So with tender words of comfort

That my folks would be home soon,

I told him all the air he'd need

Was there inside the moon.

Now all this happened years ago

When I was just a lad.

Today I've children of my own

And I'm also a granddad.

But if you'll look real close at me

I'm certain you will find

The little boy who's pictured here

Is still there deep inside.

My Dad

Renee

With hair so blonde and eyes so blue

You were the "pretty baby."

At least that's what I heard from you;

In fact, I heard it daily.

No, never did I tire of

Your pictures you would share.

In fact, the thought of seeing them

Still makes me shed a tear.

There are so many things I'd like to say

Of the special times we shared,

Like the time you sent me to my class

With six-inch ratted hair,

Or the gentle way you told me

In your sweet and caring way

That my parents came from Africa

But you'd love me anyway.

Words can't express the depth I felt

To have you as my sister.

Much simpler to compare it to

The movie called The Twister.

Now, you know this is all in jest.

You're one out of a million.

So let me take this time to say,

Happy Birthday, Lillian!

KiKi

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KiKi

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Joycie

The sun shall rise as usual,

I'll brush my teeth and hair.

It seems like any other day,

But Joycie isn't here.

I'll kiss the cats, I'll pet the dogs,

And then my clothes I'll don.

I'll go about my daily chores,

But I know that Joycie's gone.

The phone will ring incessantly

‘Til I can barely hear,

A tiny voice reminds me then,

"Our Joycie isn't here."

I've wondered why a soul so sweet

Should leave this earth so soon;

I've wondered if it's really fair

That she should miss the moon.

It seems unfair the sun should shine

When she's not here to feel it.

It seems unfair that life goes on

When she's not here to share it.

I've read somewhere our lives will end

When our purpose here is spent.

Though far too short, we've all been blessed

That to us her soul was lent.

So, yes, the sun will rise and set,

The moon will shoot its beams.

We'll go about our daily lives,

We'll have our same routines.

We'll kiss our cats, we'll pet our dogs,

'Til death our lives will go on,

Though memories dear will keep Joycie here,

So for us she isn't gone.

KiKi

The Hindus say our lives are planned

And mapped before we're born.

Some men will live a life of wealth;

Some men will be forlorn.

They even say each grain of rice

Is predestined to be eaten.

Some men will live a life that's full;

Some men will let life beat them.

I don't know why the hand of fate

Gave our lives such a twist;

Why at a young and tender age

My father's arms I'd miss.

But that's the way our lives played out;

For years we lived apart.

But it never stopped the longing for

My father in my heart.

You could have turned your back on us;

Instead you took a stand.

You stood up like a Father;

You stood up like a man.

If I never thought to thank you,

Please know, I thank you now.

We could have been forgotten

Had you not made that vow.

But that's a part I've loved in you;

You speak up for the speechless;

You make it known that all have rights

And cruelty is weakness.

Though you and I don't always share

The exact same points of view,

The way I treat my fellow man

Is what I learned from you.

I'm grateful that you shared your views,

For my life has been enriched

By different views and different hues,

You helped me find my "nitch."

But what if fate were not the same

And we'd never been apart?

Would I still have that burning need

To hold you in my heart?

Would I still swell with gratitude

From wisdom you bestowed,

And feel so blessed each day you're here

Though I am far from home?

Perhaps it's "No," we'll never know

About the Powers that be

And how they brought me back to you

In both our times of need.

I just know I love you so,

I will until time ends.

Life made you my father, Dad,

But love made you my friend.

To Dad

KiKi

A father's love is best explained

By the one who did receive it,

Not by the man who threw the ball

Nor the child who did retrieve it.

Not by the man who had the time

To enjoy each family dinner,

Or lead you up each step of life

To ensure you were a winner.

A father's love cannot be judged

By a book, he'd never measure,

Or be compared to sitcom dads

That we've all come to treasure.

A father's love comes simply from

The lessons he too learned

And mistakes he prayed you'd never make

So you too would not be burned.

A father's love will sometimes come

From words you'll never hear;

From knowing looks and grateful eyes

That say, "I'm glad you're here."

A father's love's more understood

When a father's child gets older;

When words once said you'd so resent

Were in fact what made you bolder.

A father's words are the learning curve

For that day you too give birth.

Who'd ever think you'd say them too

And believe they had some worth?

A father's words will contribute to

All that you'll become one day,

And though now gone, just like a song

His words with you will stay.

A Father's Love

KiKi