This is the poem I wrote which let me discover that I COULD write poetry. It is very special because it is about my father's love.

He never told me he loved me – at least I don’t recall.
He was father to seven kids and I know he loved us all.
He worked long hours every day – long as he was able
Just to put food upon our meager table.
He took us all to church whenever Sunday came
But had to miss, because of work, most every baseball game.
His approval seemed evident when I heard the call of God.
And at my first sermon he affirmed it with a nod.
He visited our house not long after we were wed.
He glanced into my office and not a word was said.
I know he saw my make-shift desk
Two orange crates and some wood.
And I thought nothing of it as he left and said, “Be good!”
About a week or maybe two I had some very strange luck.
There was a great big package delivered by a truck.
We cut the tape and pulled the sides apart so we could see
A brand new metal desk my father sent to me.
Although he couldn’t afford it
He bought this for his boy.
And he knew what he had given me was much more than a toy.
The desk is now rusted and broken
The evidence of years and wear.
It still stands in my house – unused
With “I love you” written everywhere!