This poem is dedicated to my father who passed away Aug 15 2014
You always went ahead of me
And passed your lessons down.
You always had advice for me,
The kind that's good and sound.
You shielded and you loved me,
You gave the best you had.
You took pride in the way you looked.
I was proud to call you Dad.
I watched you, while I was a child,
And knew what to expect;
The way you cheered the underdog
And earned all men's respect.
Oh, Daddy, I can't count the times
I came to you, uncertain,
And found unfailing, strong, support ~
Refuge from my hurtin'.
Now, the poignant memories
Flood o'er me like a river;
That certain way you stepped in time,
Your voice's own dear quiver ...
The tender way you listened, first,
To problems of a neighbor ~
Glad to give him of yourself,
Joyed to do a favor.
How like you to slip off, alone,
Not bother us with worry ~
To blaze the hundredth path for me,
Without a sign of hurry.
But, Daddy, somehow, one more time,
I'd like to say, "I love you,"
To take your guiding hand in mine
And thank the Lord, above you.
While memories flood my wounded heart
With tears and pride overflowing ~
I face the future, solemnly,
But confident in knowing ...
You'll be waiting, when I come
To Heaven's golden city
And you will answer when you hear
My familiar, "Hello, Daddy!"
C 2004 by Joan Clifton Costner
You always went ahead of me
And passed your lessons down.
You always had advice for me,
The kind that's good and sound.
You shielded and you loved me,
You gave the best you had.
You took pride in the way you looked.
I was proud to call you Dad.
I watched you, while I was a child,
And knew what to expect;
The way you cheered the underdog
And earned all men's respect.
Oh, Daddy, I can't count the times
I came to you, uncertain,
And found unfailing, strong, support ~
Refuge from my hurtin'.
Now, the poignant memories
Flood o'er me like a river;
That certain way you stepped in time,
Your voice's own dear quiver ...
The tender way you listened, first,
To problems of a neighbor ~
Glad to give him of yourself,
Joyed to do a favor.
How like you to slip off, alone,
Not bother us with worry ~
To blaze the hundredth path for me,
Without a sign of hurry.
But, Daddy, somehow, one more time,
I'd like to say, "I love you,"
To take your guiding hand in mine
And thank the Lord, above you.
While memories flood my wounded heart
With tears and pride overflowing ~
I face the future, solemnly,
But confident in knowing ...
You'll be waiting, when I come
To Heaven's golden city
And you will answer when you hear
My familiar, "Hello, Daddy!"
C 2004 by Joan Clifton Costner