Imaginary Kisses

Tears conceal the memory of a long time ago.

We buried papa today as everyone listened
to hear the last rites as teardrops glistened.
The wood song of winter, the boughs of branches in play,
scratched like a record in the dust to lay.

Tears conceal the memory of a time long ago
when I gave him a gift topped with a bow.
It was a little white box wrapped in paper of gold
that still, in death, he continued to hold.

It was a time of depression, a time most unkind,
when anguish racked both the body and mind.
We had little money, but we were spent of despair.
There was no time for joy nor time to spare.

The winter was relentless and all embittered white;
but papa, never once, gave up the fight.
Papa worked until midnight to make sure we were fed.
The wood he burned was from his king-sized bed.

He slept on the hard floor; but I couldn't sleep at all.
My guilt and my shame were turned to the wall.
My bed was soft and warm, and I was doubly dressed.
Even as a child, I knew I was blessed.

One day while he was working and mama was asleep,
I found the paper she wanted to keep.
It was glittering and gold and all shiny and new,
and I knew right then what I had to do.

I ran to the bedroom and opened my drawer of socks.
I took out the empty little white box;
and I filled it with kisses, that I made from the air.
I closed and wrapped it with tenderest care.

When papa came home and saw it, he looked down at me,
chiding me for acting so wastefully.
I handed him the gift; and he looked woefully sad,
sorry for yelling and acting so mad.

With a look of bitter sweetness, he lifted the lid;
and I will never forget what he did.
He scolded me for being so seditious and wild,
screaming that I was an indolent child.

"You cannot give the present of an empty, old box,
that you've hidden among your dirty socks!"
My tears fell in silence as fruits that no tree could bear.
My sugar-sweet smile too heavy to wear.

"But papa! It's not an empty box at all," I cried.
"It's filled with a thousand kisses inside.
I wanted you to have them whenever we're apart,
to know that I love you with all my heart."

Papa was crying, which I had never seen before.
He fell like a teardrop upon the floor.
Then, he begged for my forgiveness, bowed down and he prayed,
thanking the Lord for the gift He had made.

As years went by, things got better; and papa got old.
His bones were frail, and he was always cold.
I took care of him and bought him a new king-sized bed.
With each spoonful, I made sure he was fed.

I would sleep on the floor on the nights I was able.
The gold box sat on his bedside table.
He never let it out of sight, and the gold grew dim.
It became a semblance of love to him.

One morning when I awoke, he had the box in his hands.
His eyes were covered with little white strands.
It seemed that he was smiling, had dreamt away his pain.
I would not see his eyes open again.

We buried papa today as everyone listened
to hear the last rites as teardrops glistened.
The wood song of winter, the boughs of branches in play,
scratched like a record in the dust to lay.

Tears conceal the memory of a time long ago
when I gave him a gift topped with a bow.
It was a little white box wrapped in paper of gold
that still, in death, he continues to hold.

Now, I am crying, which I have rarely done before.
I fall like a teardrop upon the floor.
Then, I beg for my forgiveness, bow down and I pray,
thank God for papa who's now gone away.

Author's Note

This poem was greatly inspired by a story that I heard a preacher telling on the radio one morning.

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for many years.

In a very real sense, each of us as humans, have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family or God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

Pass this on to your loved ones!!

Reviews

[Abdul Aziz]

This is a beautiful story, narrated with great skill. You always control the emotions perfectly. Like your readers are all puppets in your hands. This poem does not ever veer towards the melodramatic, and yet, there is great tenderness in this. I really liked the repetition. It lent an agreeable cadence to the poem. And the Author's note, is the icing on the cake really! I totally agree with you that we are often impervious to positivity and affection. Your poem is a great call for us readers to force ourselves to have a re-think.
Great work! :)

[FlawedByDesign]

I've already commented to your ability in telling a story in such beautiful words while sticking to structure and rhyme. It seems to not matter whether the story draws on personal experience or a 3rd party, as is the case here. You must be an altruist.

Very nicely done.

[Pax Analog]

This poem has the echoing effect of an entrancing multiversed folk song sung around a campfire, carrying a sense of the mythic glue of family and community, and how to convey the spiritual value of the immaterial in a material world.

It also poignantly invests material objects w/the mysterious soul of human love.

If people at all strata of society were as adept at connecting symbolic mind to essential heart as this poem does within a family structure, it would be an entirely different world. The family is humanity itself. It is time the message of the little girl's box of kisses loomed larger than the message of the religio-political-economic slaughterhouse.

This poem's a fine reminder. May we all have the courage to find ways to expand the implications and applications beyond the four walls.

[little lily Bride of Ch..]

thank you for sharing i loved this. i had a hard life this made me think of my grandpa his heart was very kind i always tell my son the best gift comes from the heart from inside that unconditional love. and this made me cry thank you for sharing i love it all but i did love this part.


He slept on the hard floor; but I couldn't sleep at all.
My guilt and my shame were turned to the wall.
My bed was soft and warm, and I was doubly dressed.
Even as a child, I knew I was blessed.

One day while he was working and mama was asleep,
I found the paper she wanted to keep.
It was glittering and gold and all shiny and new,
and I knew right then what I had to do.

I ran to the bedroom and opened my drawer of socks.
I took out the empty little white box;
and I filled it with kisses, that I made from the air.
I closed and wrapped it with tenderest care.

When papa came home and saw it, he looked down at me,
chiding me for acting so wastefully.
I handed him the gift; and he looked woefully sad,
sorry for yelling and acting so mad.

With a look of bitter sweetness, he lifted the lid;
and I will never forget what he did.
He scolded me for being so seditious and wild,
screaming that I was an indolent child.

"You cannot give the present of an empty, old box,
that you've hidden among your dirty socks!"
My tears fell in silence as fruits that no tree could bear.
My sugar-sweet smile too heavy to wear.

"But papa! It's not an empty box at all," I cried.
"It's filled with a thousand kisses inside.
I wanted you to have them whenever we're apart,
to know that I love you with all my heart."

Papa was crying, which I had never seen before.
He fell like a teardrop upon the floor.
Then, he begged for my forgiveness, bowed down and he prayed,
thanking the Lord for the gift He had made.

[RTB]

So the poem was great and i liked the rymne scheem the point it made and the flow. but what really got me was the story in your authors note thats what i ended up loveing the most your a great writer and your message was even greater good job!

[Ruth]

This is wonderfully moving love! The description really adds to the feel of it too:) You have captured the emtions really well, the hurt, loss, the memories, nostalgia and so forth!
A stunning poem!
xx

[Richard Williams]

A fine job and touching tribute. There is great beauty in honest expression. Well done.

[Steve]

A very nice job of invoking the mind Linda........you are such an amazing imagination and ability to express it.

[OkieWonKenokie]

Beautiful. It's sad but has so much meaning behind each word and each stanza. I love it. I lost 3 family members this past year and this kind of makes me think of them. Great write. Will read more of your writings.

[Cristal Bridges]

This is extremely moving! It made me what to cry and smile all at once. It's so touching and thoughtful, full of sweetness but so sad. I like this a lot. You did a really good job with your inspiration. I must say I've never read the story you speak of but I think I may check it out now. :)