A rose from my Papa

Last Thursday, at the height of my fever, a poem my Papa composed for me when I was in highschool, (or rather for my school project ;P) kept circling my mind. It was a short poem which I tried to recall. I think it was an assignment that I'm supposed to submit after that particular weekend but I was stucked. I found myself unable to compose anything. My father was reading the newspaper in our living room when I asked for his help.  He was silent for a bit and was able to come up with this ~

The Rose

Early morning as I arose,

I thought I saw a lovely rose.

I tried to hold and kiss it most,

but found it none when I awoke.

When I became a bit conscious,

 only a dream and a lovely thought...

My father, an Engineer by profession, is surprisingly very eloquent and proficient in writing. I think it is one of his God-given talents. He's also excellent in Math (a trait, which unfortunately, I wasn't able to acquire hahaha).  In fact, I've read a couple of love letters he wrote to my mom. And I could just imagine how this has become so effective in capturing my mother's heart Yiheee!!!!  

It's a good thing I was able to remember. I know... I know....!!! It's such a short literary piece for me to forget, but it's been years since I've thought about this poem. I had to search from my "left temporal lobe" (to be more specific) long and hard to get it right. It sounds right though. It's a shame that I was not able to keep a hard copy. This is how I think of my dad. I don't have too much memory of us having a father-daughter "colloquy", except when he was angry at me for something or when he wanted me to hand him a tool he needs. "Paabot ng martilyo (hand me the hammer)", "hawakan mo ang antenna at bababa lang ako (hold the antenna, I've to go down and get something" (we were both on the roof), and "Magpaalam ka sa mama mo (ask permission from your mama)" are a few of our regular one on one conversations. Pathetic? Nope. I don't think so. I guess I understand why my father chooses to reserve his thoughts. And anyway, just to be optimistic ~ I can always claim my badge of honor as being the daughter who was there for him as his assistant for home repairs. I am the daughter, who can climb up the roof to help with the antenna among other things. There was one time when he put his thoughts about "falling in love" into writing but I will share that bit with you on another day. :)

So, you see how important it is for me to remember this poem that my Papa taught me?  While learning to ride the bicycle and driving a car are equally important lessons I learned from my father. This poem, defines his love for me. Why? He could have shooed me away and tell me to ask my mom but instead he took  time to think of a poem. Precious little time matters for a daughter who will always crave for her father's love and attention. And he gave that to me on that particular moment. Thank you Papa! I may not be your perfect daughter but hey we shared your hammer, I mean that's a good thing right? We climbed the roof together for heaven's sake! And best of all we share the same legs!  I love you, Papa!