A Poem For Dad

So we said our final farewells to Dad yesterday. Thank you to all that came or sent messages of support. It meant so much. For those of you that missed it, or anyone interested, here is my poem:

In the stillness of the morning, I'd sneak down the stairs,

Seeking you out, knowing you'd be there.

A cup of warm milk in my tiny hand,

then off you would go to survey the land.

In those precious moments, beneath the kitchen light,

You were my protector, my Dad, my hero of the night.

I’d sneak into bed and place cold toes on your skin,

you’d yelp and you’d grumble and then the games would begin.

Whiskers attack my baby soft skin,

I’d shriek with laughter and mum would moan at the din.

Drying my hair by the fire's gentle glow,

A father's touch, and a love that did show.

Lessons learned at the dining table's side,

Correcting habits, patience NOT your guide.

"Elbows in, bum back," you would repeat and say,

grumpy and bossy, your own “gentle” way.

"Sit up straight," your reminder clear,

every time I eat, your presence is near.

Veggie patches dug and nurtured with care,

A labour of love, and a bond that we share.

Mum knitted that jumper in the garden you’d wear,

it grew and morphed with you, no sense of fashion or flair.

The hum of the mower on a summer's day,

slowly you toiled, in your own special way.

In the ditch, the grass met its fate,

Under your custody and the sun's stubborn weight.

Your wisdom passed on like seeds in bloom,

"Don't plant your spuds till the FA Cup's final boom."

"Don't kick the chair," a desperate plea,

Words of caution, meant for me.

Maps drawn with pubs as guiding lights,

Through winding streets and starry nights.

To trig points we climbed, where the world lay below,

a shared love of nature, on me you’ve bestowed.

Your mild manner and acts taught with love,

Lessons transcending, from realms up above.

A game of Clag, dominoes, rummy or whist,

so long as there’s alcohol, you’ve got the jist.

We’ve lost the head of the family, patriarch, big cheese.

His bad back, dodgy hips and achy knees.

Last night in my dreams you came to me,

said, “Sorry my love, time for me to leave”.

So as we bid farewell, amidst tears and sorrow,

We hold onto our memories, today and tomorrow.

Eccleston has lost a friend, and myself a dad

but we must remember the good times we have had.

So long, farewell, you’re now in good company,

I love you, I miss you, my dad and me. xx