Overnight

Overnight

I like to walk my Father's land,
far back into the woods.
Where stoic Oak and Maple stand,
it makes me feel good.

I'll bring my trusty friend the dog
he's the best of company.
He'll bark and whine to tag along,
then sniff of every tree.

He'll run so far ahead of me,
I don't know where he is?
His wagging tail is all I see,
that fluffy flag of his.

We'll finally find a place to camp,
no sounds of passing cars.
Reflections in a glowing lamp,
of my place beneath the stars.

In times of need and lost control
I'll seek retreat on Father's land.
I've found it's not that far to go,
where the Oak and Maple stand.


In Memory of
Roy E. Finch
Feb. 7, 1929 - Jan. 8, 2007

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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