Thursday, May 17, 2007

Where are you?

Where are you? O please tell me
I’m all alone a timid child of forty.
You’re a part that I took would be there
I can’t go on, my legs falter, I’m unaware.

How high up are you in your heavenly flight?
I sit up wondering many a sleepless night.
I dream of you hovering up in the sky
All in benign grace, blessing us by.

I heard you talk to me, “O, don’t worry son,”
I’ve heard your warm chuckle soothing and fun.
I wish you would chide me into fair action
I really oughtn’t sulk around moping in the sun.

Alas, the big armchair sits ‘ere empty and bare
It’ll rock no more in abandoned care!
I picture you rocking in your abode
Telling gleeful tales to the young from your horde!

In walk my pretty daughter in the pretty park.
She asks dismay in eyes, “Where’s Grandpa?”
What do I tell her? I silently ask,
Life will teach; perhaps not her Pa!

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