The times they are a-changin’ – dVerse Haibun Monday


Stupid as it sounds, I never imagined my life without Dad. He and I didn’t have the easiest of relationships. As a little girl, I desperately wanted his presence, wanted him to notice me, wanted him there, with me. So, stupid as it sounds, his absence then felt like a presence, even though his actual presence was erratic and intermittent. We didn’t see each other, didn’t contact each other for many years. Oh, I kept track of him for most of that time, via the wonders of the internet. And then, the London bombings happened near to where he worked, and that was my wake-up call. Life is too short. Oh, how prescient was that thought, for what was too short a time after that, he died. I never imagined what that would feel like, how angry, desolate, lost, hurt, devastated I would feel. I have healed, as we all do, but he is there, in my mind, every day. He is once again absent, this time permanently gone, but always with me.

Leaves turn, green to gold

seasons change, nature gives birth –

death to life once more.


It’s Haibun Monday over on dVerse and we are asked to write our haibun on the subject of change, including a nature-based haiku to wrap up our piece.

I write not infrequently about my dad – he’s in my thoughts every day. It’s a strange thing, I never imagining him being gone, given that he was absent for so much of my life. Oddly, my mum and step-dad, my supporters, my cheerleaders, my safe harbours who have seen me through good times and bad – well, I do think of what it will be like when they are no longer here (gosh, that sounds morbid, it’s not meant to!). My mum did say to me, not long after my dad died, that her own mum was in her thoughts every day, even though she died when my mum was a little girl. I truly understand that. It’s not a conscious thought, it just is.

Anyway, I’m sure that everyone else who takes part tonight will approach this theme in their own unique way. Please do head on over to dVerse to enjoy the creativity!

In joke – Friday Fictioneers


“Mummy, don’t let him take it off! Or I’m never coming out from under here!”

“Silly! Daddy’s not going to hurt you!”

“But you said he was, he was, inf- infenctious!”

“Infectious, darling. Do you know what that even means?”

“I know it’s bad. You told him not to breathe on us.”

“That’ll teach you to listen to other people’s conversations, big ears! Daddy has chickenpox. It’s horrid and itchy and if you catch it and scratch it it’ll leave scars. The diving helmet is just our little joke.”

“S’not funny! You didn’t tell me it was a joke. I hate you!”


Gosh, this was a tough one, but isn’t that half the fun? Thank you to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers this week once more, and for the challenge of writing a 100 word story in response to the photo prompt.

Do head on over to her blog, enjoy all the reading, and why not take part? Click on the blue froggy to read the entries!

Dad, OBE – dVerse Meeting the Bar


That moment when we knew you were leaving us

When we knew the inevitable was truly inevitable

When we could no longer pretend to ourselves – to each other

that this moment would never come.

That’s when my heart pounded the strongest within

and the irony that yours was fading

whilst mine was ready to deafen us with its incessant pulsating

I wondered – madly – if there was only so much heart-beating allowed in this room.

Had I stolen your vitality

drained your life-force with my very presence?

I can imagine the roll of your eyes at such a flight of fancy –

you’d have given me short shrift, I know.

Vital you were, larger than life –

emotional, driven, strong, creative, brilliant

a bon-viveur

a criticiser of the establishment, yet part of the establishment yourself

a rebel with many causes

a man with fingers in pies

an instigator

a lover – women were your joy and your downfall –

a lion

a man in so many ways.


You’re gone, but still here,

in our memories, in our hearts, in our thoughts.


Ciao ciao, Dad.


Thank you for all that you were and still are.


I love you.


Tonight, Gayle is barkeep at dVerse, and is encouraging us to write an elegy, where sorrow, admiration and acceptance are to form clear parts of our writing.

Oh, I hummed and hah’d about this one. Not because it’s not a good form to write, but more because much of my writing of late has been a bit focused towards love and loss. But then I had a word with myself and decided to sup deep on the fabulous wine list the dVerse Poets’ Pub offers. I’m glad I did, because it gave me the chance to write about some (by no means all) of my dad’s good qualities that I so admire(d).

In case you are wondering about the title, my dad was awarded an OBE (Order of the British Empire) a few years ago, and it was a joke between us that if I sent him a letter or a card, it would be addressed to ‘Dad, OBE’. I was lucky enough to be at the investiture at Windsor Castle – a beautiful day.

Do give this form a try, or if you’re not feeling it, just hop on over and enjoy the many, varied and brilliant offerings of the other poets who like to rest awhile in good company.