The Old Farm House
Sunday dinners at the
old farm house.
Tender beef melting
in ones mouth.
A walk in the woods
with dad on
this fine fall day
talking about his,
younger times
he had, that he shared
with me, so heart warming
were these Sundays of
long ago, getting to
know my dear dad,
as I never had before,
learning so much about
this strange man I
didn't know before,
he was my dad
no matter what had
happened in the past
those good old Sunday
dinners at the
old farm house,
will never forget those
days dear dad,
miss you so much
wished we had met
sooner at the old
farm house.
wrote 9-23-08
In memory of my dad
Elmer W. Foulk 9-13-1904 to October 1970
POEM IS ABOUT ONE TIME MY EX-WIFE AND MY KIDS WENT TO VISIT
HIM ON HIS FARM IN INDIANOLA IOWA IN OCTOBER OF 1967 THREE YEARS
BEFORE HE DIED.
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