Sunday, 11 October 2015

The Way I See Him {A Poem} Valerie's Gallery

Valerie's Gallery is a collection of thoughts, poems, stories and other writings. Some are observations of the different ways people communicate and are all based on actual encounters. They were all written by my Mother as part of her Major Work for her Degree in Communication.

Mum and Dad were an interesting couple. In many ways they were chalk and cheese but they had a love and a respect for each other that was solid and lasted for 58 years. 

Mum was the outgoing, talkative one, always involved in something and always the centre of attention. She had a great sense of humour and would put on plays and skits, dress up for no reason, always entertaining and always found something to laugh about.

Dad was quieter and easy going, solid as a rock, dependable, a real handy man and without the slightest need to be in the lime light.  He was content to be in Mum's shadow. He had a cheeky sense of humour and was known for a practical joke or two. He loved kids and could always be found surrounded by his grandchildren and any other kids around. They were drawn to him like a magnet and loved him. He had so much time for them. 

Dad adored Mum and was her greatest fan and support. And I think you'll glean from the poem below that she though he was pretty alright as well.


The Way I See Him
He doesn’t need to climb the distant mountain
He is happy with the little hills near home.
The challenge of white water doesn’t lure him,
He can paddle up the little creeks alone.

He believes that life is given us for living,
That real caring is a part of being free.
And it saddens him to see a world so driven,
That it just can’t see the forest,
just the tree.

He knows where you were born is not important
You see the same brown earth, the same blue sky
And having lived the time you were allotted
Will come at last, unwillingly, to die.

He doesn’t waste his time in useless dreaming
He wakes each morning, glad to greet the day.
He’s made his choice, and isn’t one to grumble
When occasionally, things do not go his way.

He has time to spare for those who are in trouble
He has love to share for those who are his own.
And he loves to wade and fish the quiet waters
But the centre of his life is Home, Sweet Home.

He finds his joy in all the simple pleasures.
He knows a man can love, and still be free
He believes man’s right to search 
for his own treasure
But I’m glad he finds his ‘Pot o’ gold’ in me.

Written by Valerie Hazel Torning 
of her husband Stanley Herbert Torning



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