Sonnet 30 'snow Falls Upon My Father's Distant Grave'
Snow falls upon my father’s distant grave.
The disconcerting thing is, I can see it!
He neither was a humble man, nor brave,
Yet all his good – I would, that I could be it!
His arm, in every picture, round a friend,
Upon his lap, in others, babe or child!
Was ‘overwhelmed’, when he came near his End,
But, ‘kind of philosophical’ and mild.
He knew his time was up, so he hugged me,
Forgave me for my words, which was a feat!
And I forgave him, too! Wide as a sea
Was his forgiveness and words kind with heat
They burned my ears, and yet, they soothed my heart,
And made me know, of his, I was a part.
2/18/2019
Copyright © Andrew Fairchild | Year Posted 2019
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