Of late, I find myself talking to dad,
Though one sided I find it kind of sad,
I haven’t spoken to him like this since I was a young lad,
Though he may not speak, I enjoy talking to him, I might add…
He was always there when I was young and awoke with a scream,
He calmed me and cajoled with me, sometimes I even got ice cream,
He could always see right through any of my schemes,
And now I only get to actually see him at night in a dream…
He passes by quickly now, I don’t quite get how,
But just to awake and remember, gives me a feel of his presence,
To feel anything related to him I find to be pleasant,
I would gladly accept in some way his return as a Christmas present.
© -me- 10/7/17
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love ya!
Jane
Regis
My father was, in some ways, more immature than I was. He was a good provider, but a bit selfish in his small pleasures where he escaped from the hard work he put in just to raise us to adult and out on our own. Like your father, his fondness for treats, often had him buying some for us, too.
Ron