Poem for my Father
Father
His face is so soft in the picture
Gazing at his one-year-old son
His features unlined at the wedding
The bride hung in white on his arm
He took me to lunch at 85
Fed me scraps of tales from the War
We sat in a park where English swans glide
Peaceful in all that we saw
There were years when the fruit was so good
Decades when I rode the air lines
Days of the week we forgot how to speak
And weekends we shared the fine wines
I had never known just how he loved me
Or why I was large in his eyes
‘Till we sat there alone in the sunshine
Finding ourselves in each other’s lives.
poem by Frank Bana
Added by Poetry Lover
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