He quietly observes the room.
He misses nothing in his realm.
His eyes are fixed on the news he
reads,
But he’s in control. He’s at the helm.
His gentle confidence is always there
As he softly whistles through his
teeth.
There is no waver, he never falters.
His strength encloses him like a
wreath.
He rises early to prepare for the day.
He is constant, a hard worker, with
lines on his brow.
Vacations are rare and finances
skimpy.
He lives for today. He stays true to
his vow.
I can summon the sound of his hearty
laughter.
It echoes with memories of times spent
together.
His temper was fiery, but his love was
ongoing.
Devoted to family, love never
fair-weather.
I adored him and always longed to be
like him.
And I pitied his deeply haunted past.
Harsh memories of tragedy, the deaths
of his children.
His emptiness within him was bitter
and vast.
He left my life early, never knowing
my children.
I miss his quiet presence, his
strength and his love.
But I rest in the knowledge that he
accepted the Savior.
To see him again, that’s what I’m
dreaming of.
