There once was a boy with newspaper walls
I’ve heard the story many times
And I imagine he would read the printed page
With his one good eye
And a man was born from reading and writing
An intellect of the arguing kind
Who questioned the world, its ways and its heartaches
Time after time after time
But, he did find a Savior
And a beautiful bride
And four children cam their way
And my Dad was a faithful one, always to provide
He provided food and more food
Homes, too.
An angry voice that scared us
And a West Virginia heritage, to boot
But much more than that
He have a compassion to our hearts
To root for the underdog
To take their part
And so there are still stories
Written upon this boy’s walls
But they don’t make the papers
Or any ‘famous person’ halls
They are stories on an Appalachian man
Walking through the trees
Giving advice to grandkids
Making Scrabble look like a breeze
They are stories of ‘Wah-ee-may---o’
And ‘Damn nigh all’
Remembering the good ‘ol days
And the tales, they get tall
So scholar, farmer, father, man
Grandpa, husband, Dad and friend
With admiration and love
This poem I lend.
CJZ
20 June 2004
His 46th Father’s Day
