49 years

I remember the day, the falling from grace
with a knock at the door and a slap in the face
as the vicar stood there with chagrin and poise
whilst the words hit me hard with the loudest of noise

My father was gone, no more to return
forlorn, devastated, my fifteen years spurned
But I rose from that moment and grew with a strength
that lessened the pain at last and at length

Though no February passes when I don't think of him
forty-nine long years later, eyes full to the brim
It's a sad day remembered yet of one I am proud
for with it to his memory I will always shout loud

©Jemverse

Photo – John Alan Croucher (10 May 1934 – 19 February 1974) R.I.P.

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