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Sunday, March 30, 2008

REPOST: THE READING FATHER (Poem)

by Edwards Steeley
(found in The Reading Teacher 48.8 (1995), page 695)

When I was a child,
My favourite time of every day
Came just before my bedtime
When I found a favourite storybook
And climbed on Daddy's lap.
His whiskers brushed my hair
As I leaned back against his chest,
His strong arms reached 'round me
To open our passport to adventure.
I could feel his deep voice rumble
Against my back as he began to lead us
On our evening journey
Oft' we'd tramp the Hundred Acre Wood
Or go Where the Wild Things were.
We steamed down the Yangtze River;
Stood on the banks of
The great, grey-green greasy Limpopo River.
We joined Fern to watch her barnyard friends.
Dr. Doolittle taught us to talk to the animals.
We cried together when our sled dog died
Just before crossing the finish line.
But no matter how far we had roamed,
We always returned safely in time for bed.

And now I prepare for yet another journey
As my curly-haired toddler climbs onto my lap.

1st posting was on Thursday, Feb. 24, 2005

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