A wobbly cane and a picture book
Unsteady hands with a wily look
A mind that’s sharp, not dulled with time
A time that grew as he passed by.
“The sands of yours Oh Father Time
Still wonder why I cry sometimes
Not from fear (but sometimes sorrow)
My hand’s been good; I shan’t wallow.”
With prowess and pride he navigates
A kindred soul, he patiently waits
For people for things, for knowledge and notion
The outcomes the same but the ride is the motion
While the loved one’s around him raucously grew
(While he himself grew into his shoes)
He works hard for them, and him in tandem
For their love is his, it fuels his abandon.
He isn’t famous, save the ones of his kin
To them he’s the world, the moon and the ocean
It takes one to know one, so the saying goes
My roots, they are growing, yes, the seeds have been sown.
Now watch as your Eagle flies as you have flown.
Happy Father’s Day