| A Legend To Me |
| His face so drawn with age wrinkled, tired, callused hands So full of pride and honor persistent true he stands This man who will always have the name "My Dad" Hard working, loving, giving all he had He stood there in the door, sunburned, dirt worn from head to toe Earth moving heavy equipment, to make the roads, the by ways that we go Wondering over to the table he pulled out the dark brown wooden chair Sitting down to rest a moment, after his work day, he fell asleep right there With a smile he awoke, taking off his worn out shoes He turned on the record player, to relax... and listen to the blues This man "My Dad" who provided all he had with dignity and pride Never once complained how hard he worked but took it in his stride I can see him in the garden as he planted all the seeds Then later on, as it grew, kneeling down, pulling all the weeds "My Dad" sometime ago passed on yet is ever near to me He taught me pride and honor To live with dignity I remember his callused hands, dirt worn face, standing at the door So proud I am to call him "Dad" a legend ever more to me |
| This poem is dedicated and written in loving memory of "My Dad" Truly... a legend ever more to me |
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| The poetry on this web site is copyright protected and is the sole property of the author and cannot be copied or used without written consent from the author copyright 2002 Jerre M. Gostlin |
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| music: Angels among us |