by John Smallshaw
My Father would rather walk for miles
To catch his children's smiles.
And if he ever missed he kissed us all.
My Father played football and Ludo too
I think that that's what Fathers do.
And I, his son,the apple of his Father's eye
Now old myself
Sit back and sigh
I wish I'd loved him more and told him so
But Fathers always seem to know..
..their children well.
I would sell everything I own
To have my Father back at home e'en for a day
That's not to say we didn't fight
when I stayed playing out at night
or truanted from daily school.
But Father was not such a fool
as to curtail the wonderment of growing up
I drink a cup of cheer, wish that Dad was here,
check my watch
And go to sleep.