My Dad Danced Poem by Karin Holloway

My Dad danced with
A laundry basket on his head
And did maths there, too, without a pen.
He made us laugh and floated above his bed
We had to wake him with a broom.
As Santa he delighted all three girls
And took us everywhere he could.
We even made weird whirls, yes!
At taking out-of-body trips.
Now the work he did, the jobs well done,
Have weathered him in body.
But his mind and sense of wonder
Still dance like life's a jest.