My Fathers Evening Bliss Poem by Saul McCandless

Heartbeats, succumbing
The petal of a poppy
So rich, silk and numbing
I am not, who dare say sloppy

Open your mouth
He has a present for you
It is divine and from the south
Keeps me alive, keeps you true

Shells upon the beach
Telling stories long before
Little secrets, out of reach
Truth hurts, becomes a chore

And into voids of bliss
Shall we endure our Fathers tales
I wouldn't care, but do not miss
The view upon him, when she fails.