A Father's Day
So, what's a Father, Patriarch? head of his Family;
Striving strong to make his mark in our society.
Long mentored for so many years, himself, once growing lad,
In hopes to fill his father's shoes: respected as his Dad.
Awaking to wife's elbow when their new-born starts to cry,
Warming bottle's midnight milk, when Mother's breasts run dry.
Arising 'fore the rooster does wake up the morning sun;
Shower, shave, and hit the road for commute's daily run.
And coach his Son's tyke soccer team, with Mesi on Son's mind;
Accept advice, absorb abuse - of parents' words, unkind.
Assist in change from trike to bike, discard his training wheels;
Precursor to driving lessons behind his Dad's car's steering wheel.
And grill his Daughter's suitors - all - with countless interviews;
Insuring their intents be best, by setting strict curfews.
In due course rent tuxedo and, fight back tears with fake smile;
Arm-in-arm - his Little Girl, be lead down church's aisle.
As couch potato - watch TV - wash down a couple beers
Through Sunday p.m.'s football games, root on his team with cheers.
In time witness when his own Son, will next become a Dad,
But he himself join senior-hood: a beaming-proud Granddad.
So, Father's Day - once yearly held - falls 3rd Sunday of June;
Express your Love to him because - you're blessed with only one!
Walter Prokopchuk
Bradford
