Sunday, February 27, 2011

Dearest Papa

I was eight when you died.
The loss of you is one that still exists.
Papa why did you leave us when you did?
There is still so much I crave to know
about you and the life you lived.

A short time you lived
during my lifetime.
I know you loved and devoted
on all of your progeny,
and to this day I remember you.

Children rummaging through the garden,
and feeding milk to the little lambs.
The times that you rocked me to sleep,
or held me while you would swing.
No matter what, your memory will long survive.

I remember horseback rides,
and drives around the loop.
A trip to the well for a cool drink.
You never said much,
but what was said,
will stick forever
in each life you touched.

2 comments:

calgary honda said...

This was so touching that when i read it i started crying.

Berty Bell said...

Great poem. I miss Papa!!!!