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You never see the tears I weep father on your mossy stone,
      Until we meet again in Heaven you are safe within my heart;
We had a special bond, the perfect, father and daughter team,
            You believed in me, inspired me and was always proud.

Oh I recall running into your open arms a little girl innocent,
      You were the first man I loved and will always be so special;
The older I get, the smarter you seem to have been back then,
            My anchor, my rock, my protector, my security, my dad.

Can I ever forget our walks hand in hand in the park and woods,
      You taught me to love nature and to see with eyes open;
Hours we would sit on a park bench watching life drifting by,
            And I would ask you all kinds of silly little girl questions.

Even in death you are my guiding light, my safe harbour in life,
      You left me suddenly and I never got to say I love you daddy;
Tearfully I asked for your forgiveness as I held your cold hand,
            If I hurt you, sorry and I forgive you too for harsh words.

No one is perfect, I know you always wanted the best for me,
      Being a father is a big job, never easy, and I was a stubborn;
I knew everything by the age of thirteen, more than you,
            All your sayings now make so much sense to this girl.

I remember bringing you hot cups of tea out to your workshop,
      Sitting beside you at your dusty, cobwebby work bench;
Admiring your many rows and rows of tin cans and bottles,
            You were always asking mom for some kind of container.

Mom said you kept every nail, screw or bolt you ever met,
      And I would add, and every board too, and we would laugh;
It was me who cleaned out the workshop, oh stabbing pain,
             I lingered there for days touching things you touched.

In my heart father, you are kept alive for always and forever,
      Never to be forgotten, no matter where I go in life;
I will be your little girl for eternity and I will come to you,
            In falling rain, wind, snow, and on perfect summer days.

Dear Lord, please take care of daddy until I get to Heaven,
      I brought you a dew-kissed yellow rose from my garden;
Of all the flowers that mother grew, you loved these best,
            Laying it gently on your tomb, I turn away with pride.

_______________________
September 12, 2015


Poetry/Verse/Father
Copyright Protected, ID 15-708-884-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

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