My Dad Poem by Ray Hansell

It was the month of August
Back in nineteen seventy two
When my father was gravely ill
There wasn't a thing anyone could do

I prayed every night to God
That a miracle would be found
Something that would delay
His final resting place in the ground

But it seemed the more I prayed
The worse he got
Then when I heard he died
I froze, although it was hot

Now I see him in hos coffin
Surrounded by many flowers
I sat there thinking to myself
What a way to pass the hours

Tomorrow he will be buried
But I feel his story is untold
He died at age fifty-one
Now tell me, is that very old?

I saw the casket in the limousine
Draped with old glory
Another tragic ending
To another beautiful story

As I stood by the grave
My knees felt very weak
I'm glad I didn't have to
For I know I couldn't speak

The Pastor spoke his few words
As I gazed to the sky
All his words were lost
To the tears in my eyes

It was then it finally set in
That he was truly gone
But the memories I have of him
In my heart will forever live on


8-28-09/RjH