My Father

My father watched over me .

When I was with him ,

I always found peace

At the end of each day .

A friendship shared , laugh ,

Smiley and squeaky .

When we went fishing ,

We would go to lake Louise .

He would say lake Louise

Was named after my mother .

We fished for bullheads ,

Maybe that is why I am so

Bullheaded it is in my blood .

When we went hunting ,

He would have his J. C . Penney shot gun

And I would have the home made gun shot gun

My dad made for me .

Dad and I never missed a shot

When we hunted together .

When we went horse back ridding ,

Dad on Tilley me on Topper

We would ride easy

Time was always on our side .

Tilley would get her Hamms beer

every Sunday !!!

Without him I miss these things we once did .

I tried to listen to him ,

He used smiley to talk with and about kids .

He used the word and sound of squeaky

To get a smile on a child's face .

When he took snap shots of people ,

He would ask them not to say cheese

But horse ban ewer so we would smile

And we would think of his horse Tilley.

Without my father these days has left a void

But I fill it with the joy of remembering him.

I took his hand when I was young

When I heard his call or whistle ,

When I run today ,

I know he is with me .

He always wished me the sunshine of tomorrow

And always said take one day at a time

Dad always said you are to be seen not heard

Dad I am bullheaded just like you !!!!

By Brock