Dad’s warm hands have now grown cold
Angels in their arms enfold
His mortal frame;
His soul floats free - an inner glow
Is felt by all of those who know
And love and see him go -
Life’s not the same.
What a long life we celebrate
A friendly interest he would take
In everything; he liked debate
And was well read;
An only child, quite self-contained
An engineer who always claimed
There was something to be gained
From life’s rich thread.
Geography close to his heart
With maps, both an integral part
Of his personal astral-chart
From a young age;
His interests ranged far and wide
Sport and writing side by side
Until his mind went on the tide
Lost in a cage…
(c) Poet in the woods 2013
Dad: 1918-2013
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