Mark Curtis - Father's Day

My memories of you, are never sad,
I'd like to share some with you Dad.

You never ceased to make me laugh,
When I was young and in the bath.

Warm towel from fire, wrapped I'd be,
In your arms, you would dry me

Camping trips, we had a ball,
At the time you seemed so tall.

Perched on shoulders, mushroom hunt,
Rest would trail, we'd be in front.

'Mimims' I'd shout, do you recall?
Excited jumps, we'd nearly fall!

Those carefree years, to me so dear,
We'd finish off and share a beer.

Drink our share without a care,
Then wobble home, a 'right old pair'.

Sober, drunk you'd talk away,
To anyone, at night or day.

Sand to Arabs, you could sell,
Convince Big Ben they need a bell.

This gift, you then passed down to me,
To deal with issues easily.

Respect for you, no one can measure,
A noble prize, the long lost treasure

I miss you, but my heart grows fonder,
For the man down in the Rhonda.

Would want you not, any other way,
For all of time not 'Fathers Day'

copyright 2009 Mark Curtis

Mark Curtis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/father-s-day-7/