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 Language of Enchantment

A Father Remembered


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


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.


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


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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