My Father’s Dream

By: Joan L. Leorna

When i was a child,

My dreams were wild
I used to ask my father for a lullaby
before i go to bed
But he tells me a story instead

He’ll always start with once upon a time

His voice so calm in tune with my window chime
He feeds my mind not with fairytales and Fantasies,
But with how life could give me endless possibilities

Our night light is the moon,

Making a silhouette of a kind man in the walls of our
room
He tells me how he wishes to see me grow up,
A fine young lady with a pretty shapes up

A kiss in my forehead after his story

and a smile even when i know he’s sorry.
sorry, for giving me nothing but a bread to eat,
and a beautiful story before I sleep.

After years of making and fighting for his life

the time for his rest has finally arrive
I cried but i know he’s happy
because today, i’ve grown up as the fine lady he
wanted me to be.