Father

For the hard work that my father dose.

With the world on his shoulders,
he sets off to work.
Day after day always the same.

As tired as he is there is joy in his life
and the love that he feels
keeps his head held high.

To see those sweet faces,
to kiss those pink cheeks.
He’d gladly and proudly do it again.

Time flies to fast, each moment is dear.
When the children are quite
and sound asleep.

He and his wife are finally alone,
they laugh and talk,
and enjoy each other.

But all to soon they fall asleep
and another days work
is about to repeat.

Dedicated to my father Gerald Reid Eaton 2008.