It took a while
Gazing up at the night
Wondering if Father’s Day
Captures a star drawing;
No lion or fearsome beast,
Maybe the simple outline
Of a tiny crib
Filled with love.
A father lives for
The children who teach;
Giving meaning to
Each breath we take;
Each hand held tight
Whispering the promise
Of days gone by.
It may be no accident
The solstice times
Her arrival just so;
Giving this day
A few more moments
Of sun and wind;
Where each story told
Begets those yet written.
whoisfenton 