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Some memories from childhood never leave you, for reasons I don't understand, this poem is about events over fifty years ago but I can remember it like yesterday.

The Bridge

Dscn0013by Blogpoet18 Sep 2013

Now and again
I revisit the little bridge
Over the River Loddon, look down at the bank
It's where I played as a little boy
Caught tiddlers in a jam jar
My own little aquarium.

Memories flood my brain
Of innocent, trusting, uncorrupted youth
My father as a hero
The teller of all truths
And provider of unconditional love,
Safety, warmth and wisdom.

I remember dad putting his little boy
On a crossbar mounted saddle
To go on a long bike ride
Around beautiful rural Hampshire,
His arms, to reach the handlebars
Cradled me, as we went on tour.

Past Stratfield Saye, to view
The Duke of Wellington's monument
Another Nelson's column
But bizarrely in a rural scape.
More modest, less triumphant, private,
Just like my father's quiet courage.

Although he died a long time ago
I am still on that bike ride
Dad safely steering
Whispering in my ear
"Be a good person, then you will have wealth
That no one can steal...and nothing to fear".