Father’s Day Poem

I spoke to my father of my poetry woes

He said “write of me, and the wonder I am”

So I told him I would try and so here it goes….

 

So I down with pen

and I sat down with paper

to think of a ditty

rather sooner than later

 

He’d kindly assured me that there are plenty of words

That rhyme with fantastic,

Brilliant, and mint, and stupendously fab

Try gorgeous and witty and why not pure magic?

 

Indeed it is true,

there’s a plethora of words

That describe my dear dad

and fit into verse:

 

He’s handsome and wise,

black hair and brown eyes

He’s cheery, a deary, eyes rather bleary

of bees he is feary.

 

There’s a whole lot of things that my Daddy could be

Like tremendous, superb, ace and first rate,

He’s super-duper, terrific: damn fine and great

He sounds like the best dad I’m sure you’ll agree

 

My father, the captain, the boss and the master

, it is he who I call when my life’s a disaster

For practical advices in times of great crisis

Like fixing a clutch while stuck off in Spain

or finding a stopcock after searching in vain

he has all the answers he knows what to do

and so dear daddy I’m calling you,

If I crash my car or find a new job

it’s your number I’m calling whether happy or sad

 

Now he is a man who likes to keep busy

Playing tennis or golf

or sailing his dinghy

He’ll be out at a concert

Mummy in tow

If the Enemy are playing,

Guaranteed they will go.

But in the shops you won’t find him

or having small talk,

No he’ll have a kite or a ball on a walk.

 

He never sits still,

no time to be restless,

no time to be ill

He’ll try out new stuff,

whatever he feels

I remember him juggling and cycling one wheel

Then filling the garage with leftover guff

 

There’s things that remind me of my dear old Pops

Like dancing along to Top of the Pops

Like Gooseberry crumble and the Wimbledon title

And that man on the radio announcing the score:

Saying Rotherham One

Manchester City, Four

 

He’s pretty fearless

He’ll give it a go

From tacking and jibing

in a whirlwind blow

or entering fear factor

in a live show

He’ll tip Del Boy’s car

Just as far as it’ll go

and he’ll do it with style

He’s pretty gung-ho!

 

And so I’ve written your poem

And you come off a-glowin’

But now it’s done and I’ve had my say,

All that’s left is to wish you a Happy Father’s Day!

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