A sonnet for my dad on Father’s Day

My dad started reading Shakespeare to me when I was really young.

I’m not sure how old I was, but I couldn’t have been older than 10. He’d read me bits of his plays and the best of his sonnets. I fell in love with literature at an early age, and poetry became a way for me to express myself.

Rarely do I share my poems. In fact, I think I’ve only ever shared one or two with close friends outside of an English class setting.

But considering my Dad introduced me to Shakespeare at a time when I should’ve been reading Junie B. Jones, it seemed only natural that I write him a sonnet for Father’s Day. And I wanted to share it with you.

Me and Dad on Father's Day
Me and Dad on Father’s Day

A sonnet for my dad on Father’s Day

Dad used to sing me The Beatles at night —

“Yellow Submarine” was my favorite one.

We have the same dark skin and urge to write.

He’s all I hope to be in the long run.

He taught me the guitar and how to sing —

Precious lessons that make me who I am.

Dad encourages me to just be me.

I’ve come a long way and owe it to him.

Dad’s more than lines about childhood mem’ries.

Cancer came, left its mark — he still fights hard.

His grit and courage inspire those he meets.

To call him “Dad” is life’s greatest reward.

Thanks to all dads: we honor you today.

Thanks to mine, who has helped me find my way.

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