From Father To Son
The hues of autumn mix and meld
On trees where clusters of mistletoe dwell,
Shades of amber, scarlet, and gold
Call into mind some old stories Dad told.
Tales of wizards, dragons, and lore
Of pirates landing one morning on shore,
Born of magic, lovingly spun
So cleverly crafted just for his son.
Grand adventures I fondly hold
Could live forever if only retold,
Father to son...now an old man
Retold to this lad who now holds my hand.
The hues of autumn mix and meld
Turning to auburn once life is expelled,
Fathers live, and they also die...
But their tales live on when told by and by.
Timothy I. Brumley
Copyright © Timothy Brumley | Year Posted 2016
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