A little different poem again.
I hope you like the 'contrast'
between the two individuals.
.
My heart pumps harder every beat.
Sweat runs faster in the heat.
The sidewalk, our familiar beat,
as dad enjoys the warming heat.
I'm swamped with work, my patience thin.
I do my best - but cannot win!
His lungs are weak, his face is thin,
but with our love, we always win.
I must be prompt - and on a dime,
but I'll be late. There isn't time!
He's broke and no one spares a dime -
but jointly - precious is our time.
The meeting started half-past-ten
and now I will be late again!
The time we spend, we rate a "10"
so I'll return - again, again.
I'll be late. I think, "Oh, well."
Trouble, I can always spell.
I know the plastic handles well -
"Father, should we stop a spell?"
Small weeds in cracks on sidewalk die,
as I fly past, I run them by....
The flowers seem to never die.
We smell those flowers - not pass by.
The elevator, I jump on,
the second floor, I push upon.
We rested some, and then walked on -
Us, others fixed their gaze upon.
Finally there, alone I stood -
I saw him stare (this isn't good).
Beside my dad, I faithful stood -
enjoying life - as this is good.
---
Good health (like fragrance) fades away -
So smell those flowers every day.
For I'll not trade a day I've had -
those special times with good 'ol dad.
