Your daddy would pick you up, swing you ‘round—
Ev’ry day when you ran home from th’ bus stop;
When you’d see him, straight to his arms you’d bound
After backpack’s slung off your arms to drop.
Sometimes he’d surprise you and hide from you,
Espying from behind a bush, he’d peek
Till you looked until he came into view—
A modified version of hide-and-seek.
When it rained, he’d drive to th’ bus stop and park
To keep you from having to walk in th’ rain . . .
With him as your daddy, your life was a lark;
You had nothing to lose and all to gain.
Your friend saw your life: “You so have it made,”
As she saw you so surrounded with love . . .
If love could prevent . . . you’d never have strayed . . .
T’ be picked up in Love . . . by Father above.
So my dear child, still surrounded with Love . . .
Rest in peace, in your Father’s arms of Love . . .
But this Father’s Day, just look down and peek –
Though now you’ll “hide,” your daddy will e’er seek ...
Till one day you will come into full view,
And he’ll evermore celebrate with you!
Poetry prompts park, peek, pick
Carl Larson’s painting. “Brita and I” (Self Portrait), 1895 for http://simplysnickers.blogspot.com/2009/05/poetry-prompt-through-sunday-may-31.html
Written 5/30/09 – A Daddy’s Love – Angie Bennett Prince