If you were here on Father’s Day
I’d feel your rough hands and bristly whiskers
I’d light your cigar and play some Spike Jones
I’d broil you a steak and buy you a beer
If you were here.
If you were here on Father’s Day
I’d watch you wind your watch at your dresser
I’d smell the Old Spice on your neck
I’d listen to you play the piano and not even plug my ears
If you were here
If you were here on Father’s Day
I’d ask about when you met Mom
I’d show you your growing grandkids
I’d tell you how treasured you were and are and always will be
If you were here
I love you.
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4 comments:
Very nice! Love the memories!
And I bet you would polka in the living room.
Lisa, yes. We'd both stick out our buck teeth and grin the whole time.
Marcia, glad you liked it.
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