My Greatest Valentine

My Daddy

My greatest Valentine,

as with any girl I know,

that was my daddy –

the hero of my heart.

 

My greatest Valentine,

was no Rock Hudson, no Cary Grant or even Gary Cooper,

but he had me heart and soul –

every smile so precious.

 

My greatest Valentine,

might not have been Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra or even Bruce Springsteen,

but he was the apple of my eye –

I loved him do or die.

 

My greatest Valentine,

had me from the word go,

I would always tell him so –

he was the hero of my small world.

 

My greatest Valentine,

made me so glad,

when we were just the two of us

and the world was ours.

 

My greatest Valentine,

made my heart beat faster,

every time we were together –

just my daddy and me.

 

My greatest Valentine,

had no doubts that he could play like a child,

in the park along with me,

knowing all the laughter he would bring.

 

My greatest Valentine,

could even dance the Twist with me,

pretend he was Elvis like on TV,

making all my childhood days so sunny.

 

There weren’t any moments,

that didn’t make memories,

for me and my greatest Valentine –

my daddy the hero of my heart.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day up among the stars and thank you for the best 10 years of my young life!

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Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

6 thoughts on “My Greatest Valentine

  • February 10, 2017 at 3:17 AM
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    Rasma, I love this memoir. I can so relate to it because I felt this way about my Daddy. Lovely work Rasma.

    Reply
    • February 11, 2017 at 4:51 AM
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      Thank you Phyllis. I have my childhood memories but I sure would have like to know my dad during my teens and into young adulthood but such is life.

      Reply
  • February 10, 2017 at 2:53 PM
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    This is so wonderful – it reminds all of us to look at who really matters and who really influenced each and every one of us to be more than just average…

    Reply
    • February 11, 2017 at 4:52 AM
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      That would certainly be my dad R.J. He left me with his poetic talent and when he saw that I loved poetry at the tender age of eight he bought me a children’s book of poems and was around to at least see me write some poems in Latvian those days.

      Reply
  • February 10, 2017 at 4:37 PM
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    Wonderful Rasma, a heart-felt tribute to a girl’s Dad, lost far too early, but such a part of who you are. Lovely, emotive work my friend.

    Reply
    • February 11, 2017 at 4:53 AM
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      Thank you Tony. The only way I can express my love for him is from the heart of that little girl inside of me.

      Reply

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