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To you Dad!
Growing up with him. I learned so-o much!
The sodden earth to plow, in the newness of spring.
Nurturing young harvest, reward in plenty,
Put your mind to it,...you can do anything.
He cradled life to perpetuate in kind.
Acorns by the bucket, I had oft to find.
Within a short season, young trees started to grow.
Amongst the hillside now, they fairly do show.
I tagged along when firewood he cut,
Stepping carefully in each footprint he made.
Being sure to place my steps in his,
Unaware of the total impact he Gave!
He took me fishing many times I recall.
To angle trout, Oh, the thrill of it all!
On the banks of the river, a fire at night,
When fishing was best, and bullheads did bite!
I learned to hunt and shoot with the best.
Shot skeet pretty well, and amazed every guy.
This, at a time not too many gals took arms.
But I was his sidekick, most everything to try.
I watched him work, always his right hand,
In putting up sheetrock, mixing concrete and sand.
Layed cinder block walls, studing out a frame.
Learned about squares, make each cut the same.
I grew up not squeamish, about dressing out game.
To cutting up meat or cleaning partridge, a pro.
I wasn't very traditional to women in kind,
But I had a great role model, that I loved so!
I learned about trees, in their gifts they bestow.
From firewood, sugaring,... so much more to know.
To the absolute beauty in the natural grain of wood,
From this he made his living, a sawyer withstood!
Weekends were very often a time to gather.
Guitars and music, a singalong, led my father.
Old melodies,.. ones not even heard today,
We would jam for hours, with evening well under way!!
Many times he would take us out to dine.
Sundays especially, after long drives about.
The countryside he drove, mostly back roads.
In search, I think, of the old way of life,.....
some forgotten route!
I remember a time, fence I was helping him fix,..
the dog ran behind us, just out of thickets.
A whole herd of heifers, the pup irritated much,
Twas only dad and I, stood between them, as such.
The whole herd running at us, slid to a stop!
Dad's formidable presence, a force to reckon with.
I can only think of him as a giant of a man,
And the stories that are told, are fact not myth.
There are many such stories, welled up in my mind,
Of the things that transpired so very long ago.
So as not to forget, the things left behind,
Here I shall write, for the man,...
to whom my life, I owe!!!!
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Gold trophy winner
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