My Dad
Jackie
My father was a farmer’s boy
who loved to work the land,
but many children came to him
and wages weren’t grand.
So he went to be a miner
and toil beneath the ground
to feed and clothe his family,
to keep us safe and sound.
He’d tell us of his younger life
and often he would share
the stories of his farming days
wishing he was there.
Though he couldn’t sing for tuppence
he did so anyhow
the songs he knew were myriad
I still can hear him now.
I’ve missed him since he passed away
but know he’s out of harm
and, if God agreed to his last wish,
he’s somewhere on a farm.
His idea of Heaven was living on a farm.
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