MY FATHER'S GARAGE

MY FATHER'S GARAGE I remember visiting my father in his place of eminent domain. Thoughts carry me back to that place, of my childhood's delight. where he would manufacture a task to complete, just to be polite! He had everything to loose, I had everything to gain. As over my father's garage, a little tyrant, I did reign. A block of wood, a nail and a hammer to keep me in his sight. A job which served no purpose other than to ease my mother's plight! I was his source of constant interruption, but he never did complain. The smell of gasoline, turpentine, and Aqua Velva comes to mind, As he lifts me on his big strong shoulders, I could almost touch the sky. He held the patience of a saint, as into everything I would explore! The feeling of scratchy whiskers from his tender kiss I did adore! As asoothing consolation from a skinned knee I would not hold still for. These are a young girl's childhood memories, everytime I walk through that old garage door! WordPlaya, Jan 2009