(for Father’s Day, 2011)
Father –
It was the why you rose to work, with sometimes fewer words:
Mouths to feed, with open beaks, just like the baby birds.
Father –
It was the why you sometimes had to toughly discipline,
Like sergeants in the army mold raw recruits into men.
Father –
It was the why of outer gruff, quite needed to be firm,
When even that grew out of love, the greatest gentle germ.
Father –
It was the why God made your shoulders wider than the rest,
To lean upon when worldly woes against my soul were pressed.
Father –
All that and more is in the word, your role within the ranks.
All that and more is what you are, to me, and I give thanks.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.
The Bard on the Hill 