8 of 130

Write now Article Tools

He passed away six years ago
The kindest man you'll ever know.
The last few years of his long life
Were filled with lingering pain and strife.

A gentle man with Irish eyes
Bluer than the summer skies,
He laughed and cried, as Irish do
And would gladly give his life for you.

He loved his family, adored his wife
Revered his country, his place in life.
There wasn't left a huge estate
But enough to comfort his widowed mate.

My father was my gift from God
Only a generation removed from the old sod.
He remembered the stories told by the old
Of hungry children and winter's cold

The stories heard of days long past
Made him aware that life can't last.
At eighty-seven, his peace was made
Heaven was waiting, he wasn't afraid.

He's smiling again, I can see his face
Surrounded by angels in a beautiful place.
I know that God takes special care
Of a beautiful man with a soul so rare.

Learn more about this author, Patricia Parker.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: Father?
We want to hear your view. Write now!