The Playground

The Playground

A Chapter by I'd Rather Write

A message to my first daughter written in a poem in 2011.


My heart lives deep in sorrow

Because of my absence as a father

To my precious, first-born children;

My son and my daughter.


My feelings pour like rain

As I sit here for hours and write

About agony, regret, and pain

That lasts into the night.


In regards to my precious daughter,

A long-kept secret haunts my soul

--A selfish act of shame

That happened years ago.


. . . It’s time for her to know.


On one particular day,

I went to visit her mother.

I had items for her to give

To my daughter and her brother.


The afternoon was sunny

When I left her mother’s place.

I had important things to do;

I had to hurry--I had to race.


As I drove around the block,

I was caught by a sudden surprise.

My daughter was alone on the playground;

She never caught my eyes.


She pushed an empty swing

And slowly walked the ground,

Then leaned against the slide

While staring at the merry-go-round.


I followed her with my eyes

As I sneaked about my way

Into my important schedule

On that busy, selfish day;


. . . I never stopped to play.


It was 1996

And she was only nine years old.

I can still see her clearly;

. . . My precious daughter

. . . With a heart of gold!


My mind is getting weary;

Awake, I cannot keep.

It’s very, very late, now,

And I’m starting . . .


To Fall . . .


A . . . . sleeeeeeeeeeeeep . . . . . .


I’ve drifted into dreamland;
I’m astonished at what I see
--I’m looking at a youngster
Who looks a lot like me!


He’s playing on a playground
With a pretty little girl.
Their hands are locked together
As they spin in a swirl.


They laugh while they play
And he pushes her on a swing.
They hop on a merry-go-round
And joyfully begin to sing.


Songs of thrill and happiness
Fill their jolly hearts.
They take a short break
To eat some Pop-Tarts.


She then bolts up a ladder
And rides down a slide.
The boy hides at the bottom
Then shouts, “BOO!” by her side.


She breaks in a laugh
Then sprints behind a tree.
“Let’s play hide-and-seek!
You have to look for me!”


He covered up his eyes
With a finger and a thumb,
Then counted, “One . . . Two . . . Three,
Ready, or not, here I come!”


“Here you are!” he shouted
As she returned an excited look.
She ran to her backpack
And pulled out a book.


He read her a story,
As she wore a happy face,
Of Winnie the Pooh’s adventure
In a far away place.


As he walked her home,
They bought ice cream at the store,
Then walked a few more blocks
To her living room door.


The girl looked at the boy
And smiled with this to say,
“Thank you, Daddy, for playing with me,
I had so much fun today!”


I reached down and hugged my daughter
And squeezed her into my chest,
Then whispered, “Of all the days I’ve spent with you, Erica,
This one was the best!”


Some day when I pass on
Into eternity,
I pray the Lord will let me
Keep this dream inside of me.

© 2012 I'd Rather Write

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Added on December 28, 2011
Last Updated on January 2, 2012


I'd Rather Write
I'd Rather Write

Aurora, IL

I'm just a simple, low-profile guy who loves and worships the Lord, who finds value in working hard to obtain a better life for his family, who loves to write, and who lives a portion of his weekly li.. more..