my Father

my Father
as I remember him
A gallant gentleman
A kind soul

ever willing to stuff your pocket
his last dollar
bullies beware his valor
he the down trodden will ever defend

soft is his heart
compassion his soul
years of toil has taken its toll
yet soft his eyes still

victim of his times
eking to survive
from day to day
fighting to live
hardened became his fists

these with our abundant existence
will never comprehend
his anxieties His fears
his hours of darkness

as each day breaks
that metal can, empty of rice
and shirtless sons with hungry mouths
On Him bear

the dim of the kerosene lamp
Is all there is
as dinner is served
as midnight arrive

some rest perhaps
before dawn breaks
before the morn’s silver streaks
cold bath under the stars
And ...
his day of toil begins
Once again

our abundant life
so easy it is to forget
his life his sacrifice His pain
This finest gentleman
Bless him
May He ever be happy!