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I recall . . . 
Dad's work shed to this day
The scent of wood and dust in the air
Cobwebs in corners and crooks
Sun flooding in through windows
His scarred and scored wooden work table
And the countless tin cans of nails and screws

And Dad working on a new plan
His coffee cup forgotten and ignored
And I would bring him flowers
Precious dandelions, buttercups and daisies
Which he would place in a dirty container of some sort

Smiling, he would lift me up to sit beside him
We would ponder his scribbled sketches
O, the grand ideas he had
I still have those doodles and outlines

And the lazy afternoon would pass
For me and Dad
And later we would sit on the rusty porch swing
Side by side, just swinging
And I would hold his hand so tight
Like I never wanted to let it go

But, God had a plan
Written in the book of destiny
And who am I
To question what is written by God
So, I had to let go
But today, I sure am missing Dad
 

_________________________
April 14, 2013

Poetry/Free Verse/And
Copyright Protected, ID 04-470-984-14
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France


Written for the Standard contest, Fresh Poem #3
sponsor, A Poet Destroyer, Judged 05/17/2013

First Place

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