I wrote this around 3 years ago.
I guess it was my way of dealing with another Fatherless Father’s Day at the time.

I am not a poet.
Yes, it rhymes, yes it is rough, yes it is amateur.
Shoot me if you like.

To Dad

Fishing was his life-time love
He’d sit there rain or shine.
And if he caught not one thing,
Well that was just plain fine!

Sometimes he went there by himself
And sometimes with his friend
Occasionally he took us kids
But there the fun would end!

He also loved his Football
Man United all the way
He loved it when they won a match
Champi-onees he would say.

He loved to play computers
He’d play on any game
But if you tried to have a go
The answer would be the same

In a minute he would say
Or, When Luigi dies
You’d sit there waiting for your turn
Just laughing at his cries.

Eventually he got a car,
And would take us all on trips
But they’d turn into mystery tours,
With maps, he never got to grips.

His family were his passion,
His life and his soul
If we did well, he’d get so proud
Like United scored a goal.

If ever we were naughty,
He would not scream or shout
You’d get the disapproving look
Which was worse than any clout

Whenever he was poorly,
He would drink some blob
He’d spend the night all merry
And that would do the job!

He’d always drive me places
To work or into town
He made sure that I got there safe
Even if he felt down.

He put up with my music
When driving in my car
Volume up & windows down,
Good job we never went too far

He’d make everybody welcome
With his big warm happy grin
It did not matter what you’d done
He took it on the chin

Everybody loved my dad
Right up to the end
With him you got just what you saw
A warm, amazing friend

I miss him more than ever
Every minute, every day
If I could bring him back, somehow
I’d do it straight away

Sleep well, Pops!

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