A father is
Like that lonesome
Tree on a
Smog-filled
Twisted
Street
That
Shades you in
Hot summers,
Protects you
From sudden heavy
Passing
showers;
In winters,
From bitter winds
And harsh hail,
And,
In the multi-hued
Spring
season,
Showers you with
Scented flowers,
Transforming you
Into a magical figure,
Clad in pink-red petals;
And after death,
Lingers in your aching
Longing heart
Like a beautiful dream,
And
Irrigating the inner
Landscapes with
His gentle
Fragrant presence,
Not felt by
others.
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