Dear Daughter:
Your frenetic new admirer is not my cup of tea,
for even though I told him that he’d have to let you be,
he resorts to tactics like climbing that big tree
to gain visual access to our property.
You, too, must be incisive in telling him to cease
if you’d like his constant efforts to come to a surcease.
For though I am your father, he allots to me no power
but simply remains stubbornly in his leafy bower.
His persistent efforts prove that he is from that faction
that they label OCD, for he shows no reaction
to my constant pleas, so do you agree with me
that it’s necessary to just cut down the tree?
Dear Papa:
Alas, though my new suitor is not your cup of tea,
I find that his flavor is agreeable to me.
I am not your teenage daughter, for I’m almost thirty-three.
So please do not molest him, and do not cut down his tree.
It is a fact, dear parent, I’m of marriageable age.
So cease with your obsession and curb parental rage.
It’s time to cut the apron strings and set your daughter free,
for I prefer another perch to my father’s knee!
Prompt words are frenetic, incisive, faction, allot, and almost.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Delightful. Reminded me of my grandparents.
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Ha.
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How many boys did you have up trees? I once caught my father peeking out through the garage window when a date came to pick me up. He had hung around for much longer than usual after lunch to see who I went out with and I noticed the guy never asked me out again. He was much older than me and I believe my father had a talk with him. Just as well, as he was a wild one, but very very good looking!
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My grandfather, for one.
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Your grandfather was up a tree? That sounds like a story.
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You have read it, Judy. It’s in Part 4 and Part 5 here:
https://koolkosherkitchen.wordpress.com/2019/09/04/my-grandmothers-recipes-part-4-gefilte-fish/
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I think that the father portest too much due to memories of his own indiscretions.
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I think that is often the case, Sam. You didn’t have any daughters, did you?
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Perhaps, but I see it as traditional attitude of not so distant past.
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beautiful. I try to be nice to my son in laws. i really do.
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I think the father protests too much!!!
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Life as a daughter, had we only known they were right.
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At least in some cases. My mother’s name was Eunice! I haven’t met many others in my life. Just one other. She went by the name Pat!!
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My mom’s was Eunice and she called herself Sandy until she married my dad. Dad loved the name which is why I also carry her name 🙂
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I have a photo of my mother standing in front of a “Eunice” sign…name of a town they passed through enroute to the East Coast.
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Yes Louisiana 🙂
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Fun!
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Excellent poem Judy.
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Even without having to use the prompt words you have spun a beautiful story from the image – but knowing you the image came last
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Ha.. how did you know that the image always comes last?
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I think you once told me
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Oh more great memories……I rode my bicycle back and forth in front of her house at 14~! In the hopes that I would catch her in the front yard, and accidentally be able to stop and chat~! Funny how often she was accidentally in that yard. Oh teen age love, and it lasted throughout high school~!
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Ah yes.. and the courtship by teasing.
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Enjoyed the sentiment, and also enjoyed the logical depiction of dad’s concerns–haven’t really seen that before. Gives more heft to the counter of ‘other’ reasonable perspective
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What a great idea for the discourse. Very well done.
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Thanks, Tessa.
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So clever!
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Just sort of evolved.. That’s what I love about the prompt words. They guide you a bit.
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Definitely past daddy’s knee!
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One would hope.
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Well, you know … there great dads and then, there are those OTHER ones.
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Hope you had a great one. Mine was pretty good.
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Mine was one of those OTHER ones. But it was a long time ago. And somehow, here I am anyway. And mom was fine. One out of two ain’t too bad.
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