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A Father Remembered


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As Father's Day approaches
My thoughts go tumbling back
To happy,carefree childhood scenes
Bib overalls and high haystacks.

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My father-- just a simple farmer
With mud clinging to his boots-
Gave me so much more than life,
Love of family, love of roots.

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I remember work worn hands
Pressing fondly to my cheek
Telling me how much he cared
In actions words could never speak.

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I cannot take him flowers
They were not my father's way
I'll just kneel and thank my God
For my dad on Father's Day.
 
(C)Doris Jacobs-Covington
 June 14, 2008









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