Shortly after he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, I penned the following words as a gift for my dads birthday. It seems fitting to share it with you today. Mum thought it would be too much to read it at his funeral, but we printed a copy out, and slipped it into the breast pocket of his last suit. I’m happy I got to speak it too him before he passed. Happy fathers day to all those special men called dads. Lord knows I need mine now.
Many words have been penned about fathers and sons
Various opinions and views from
Deeper thinkers and more literary greats than I.
Well, myself, a sister and a mum,
Mysterious half brothers now beginning to be known
And credited true colours shown.
Those aforementioned aficionados of verse and song
Have got it right more times than wrong,
But none have experienced a muse as grand
A life well lived and distance ran,
Wise words spoken from ne’er a greater man,
Touching hearts that once were sad,
Oh none of them had met my dad.
If anyone can achieve such unsung heroism
That rocks of ages have striven for, missed
And driven mad such futile ambition,
There was only ever one such dad.
To leave the chasing pack,
Clean heels still
Even on his back.
To become half a man
Would be to make the loaves and fishes
Into five thousand a la carte dishes
Against stacked odds, making those flown the nest come home.
Achievements numerous, a quiet whirlwind of success,
Steady ships to slip under the radar of acknowledgement.
Yet nearest and dearest know,
Had he been present, the whale would not have had Jonah for dinner,
Perhaps Gascoigne would have been a winner
And many tears never leave their dewy ducts,
With words and deed
And heartfelt thoughtfulness that pales kingly acts.
Yet it is the simple stuff that matters most.
Genuine hugs, strong hands and that all important extra tenner.
As the world comes down around broken hearts,
Crashed cars and many a whimsical fad,
The pieces perfectly picked up
By one such dad.
The only such dad.
The only one.
Never to be replaced, always there when
Close lives undone with this or that,
Trivialities,
Or a more life threatening passport problem.
It mattered not.
Steadfast guidance to stand the test of time,
How I pity those who don’t have a dad like mine.
No. Not like him. The only one.
With such a bond ‘tween father and son,
Daughter and mother, sister and brother,
Given each, more than half a chance to reach the stars,
Oh what you would give,
For a dad
Like ours.
A poem for my father and for yours too
Shortly after he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, I penned the following words as a gift for my dads birthday. It seems fitting to share it with you today. Mum thought it would be too much to read it at his funeral, but we printed a copy out, and slipped it into the breast pocket of his last suit. I’m happy I got to speak it too him before he passed. Happy fathers day to all those special men called dads. Lord knows I need mine now.
Many words have been penned about fathers and sons
Various opinions and views from
Deeper thinkers and more literary greats than I.
Well, myself, a sister and a mum,
Mysterious half brothers now beginning to be known
And credited true colours shown.
Those aforementioned aficionados of verse and song
Have got it right more times than wrong,
But none have experienced a muse as grand
A life well lived and distance ran,
Wise words spoken from ne’er a greater man,
Touching hearts that once were sad,
Oh none of them had met my dad.
If anyone can achieve such unsung heroism
That rocks of ages have striven for, missed
And driven mad such futile ambition,
There was only ever one such dad.
To leave the chasing pack,
Clean heels still
Even on his back.
To become half a man
Would be to make the loaves and fishes
Into five thousand a la carte dishes
Against stacked odds, making those flown the nest come home.
Achievements numerous, a quiet whirlwind of success,
Steady ships to slip under the radar of acknowledgement.
Yet nearest and dearest know,
Had he been present, the whale would not have had Jonah for dinner,
Perhaps Gascoigne would have been a winner
And many tears never leave their dewy ducts,
With words and deed
And heartfelt thoughtfulness that pales kingly acts.
Yet it is the simple stuff that matters most.
Genuine hugs, strong hands and that all important extra tenner.
As the world comes down around broken hearts,
Crashed cars and many a whimsical fad,
The pieces perfectly picked up
By one such dad.
The only such dad.
The only one.
Never to be replaced, always there when
Close lives undone with this or that,
Trivialities,
Or a more life threatening passport problem.
It mattered not.
Steadfast guidance to stand the test of time,
How I pity those who don’t have a dad like mine.
No. Not like him. The only one.
With such a bond ‘tween father and son,
Daughter and mother, sister and brother,
Given each, more than half a chance to reach the stars,
Oh what you would give,
For a dad
Like ours.
I love you old man. Xxx