NOTHING VENTURED.

A BOY AND HIS FATHER R AND THE GIRL.

Nothing ventured,
Nothing gained, your
Father said, the
Clichés spinning
In his head like
The loose change in
Trouser pockets.  

You’ve got to make
Something special
Of yourself, young
Colin; you can’t
Just drift like some
Stick in a stream.
You nodded and

Outwardly gave
The impression
To him that you
Agreed, thinking
Of Molly Toole
And the kissing
And cuddling she

Gave while at school
(Behind the bike
Shed) and the way
The sunlight seemed
To touch and bless
Her dark haired head.
Father sipped his

Morning tea and
Nibbled the toast,
Gave you the stern
Eyed stare. If I
Hadn’t really
Pushed myself, he
Stated between

Bites, if I had
Not pushed and pushed,
I’d not be where
I am today.
You remembered
Molly’s whispered
Suggestions, the

Wanderings hands,
The fear and joy
Of being found
Out, the noisy
Sounds of children
In the nearby
Playgrounds, the way

She moved and thrilled
And the shouts of
Children’s games and
The calling of
Names. You’ve got to
Be a lot more
Venturous, young

Colin, not sit
Back and wait, your
Father said, toast
Crumbs on his chin,
Eyes dark, features
Pale and thin. You
Nodded in a

Dreamy kind of
Way, sipping tea,
Thinking of sex
Pot Molly and
What she had said,
Suggesting sex
On Saturday
In father’s bed.

Reviews

[munkiC munkiDU]

Hey, dadio ^.^ Great poem - love the story-telling aspect to it. The last stanza made me laugh. Nice one!