I've written poetry off and on for as long as I can remember. When the geese are flying south and it's autumn harvest time, my thoughts always turn to home and to my father. This is a poem I wrote many years ago, as he neared the end of his life.
As we rode through summer breezes
The man of courage and I
He taught me still another lesson
As he had since I was just so high
For the years had left their burden
And now he walked with a cane
And the body once strong and strapping
Now faltered and gave much pain
I heard him not once complaining
As we passed fields of grain on our drive
But commenting on God’s bounty and sunshine
Saying “It’s a good day to be alive”.
Now, when I’m feeling sorry
For the problems and troubles I’ve had
I look to my model of courage
With humble gratitude....I love you, Dad!
I have a little slate in my kitchen on which I've written "Count Blessings. Choose Happy". It's the lesson I learned long ago from my father, who found something good in every day. Thank you for stopping by!
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