Dearest Daddy

This week, I received my very first letter from my son written in his own hand and had been posted to me via snail mail. He said that he loved me so much that he even included a postage stamp in the envelope so that I can reply. That meant that I had to reply by snail mail. So I wrote a four page letter to my son and posted it after work. So he should get it by Monday and if he can't read my hand writing then this is what I wrote...

Dearest Matthew

Well, this was a surprise to receive a hand written letter from you and I am honoured that I am the recipient of your first letter. Something to cherish forever. The downside to this letter is that I have to write one back and it has been over twenty years since I last wrote a letter by hand, back in the days. Not to mention my handwriting leaves a lot to be desired.

So much has changed since technology has taken over our lives. It sort of de-humanises us in a way. But you don't know about a world that doesn't have cellphones, computers or even television. And now I have to write and not type a letter, oh my kingdom for a pen.

Well where to start, I am doing well and so are the dogs Maxy, Patch, Jade and Skye. Now that it is getting warmer I have to take them on longer walks. Pottery sounds awesome, hope you enjoy making strange and wonderful things. When I first read it in your letter, I saw Poetry and not Pottery, oh well I must be getting old.

So I end this letter off with one of my favourite poems when I was a young boy. It is by a man called William Yeats written about a hundred years ago. It is about fairies who steal little children or what the adults thought when their children went missing. Dr Who or was it Torchwood who had an episode about fairies stealing children and this poem was mentioned. I know you love Dr Who and have seen nearly every episode so you might just know. And because you have stolen my heart, here is the poem.

The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

Well that is me, signing off now. Enjoy your days till we meet again as I love you more than you can understand. I love you every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Oceans of Love

Daddy