He is my Papa
Some knew him as the boy with eyes as blue as the Irish sea,
Born in Amboy,
To a large farm family.
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as the man who packed everything in a brown paper sack,
Saw and crossed the Mississippi for the first time,
And thought, “This is it, there is no looking back.”
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as the man who once had too many bottles,
Trying to find a way to numb pain and sorrow.
Was given a second chance,
Found love, God, and a better tomorrow.
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as the tough man of law,
Who never backed down,
But would help any person, despite any flaw,
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as a man of routine,
Whom did not want it to be shakin,
Coffee at Octane, politics, God, AA,
Eggs and bacon.
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as a man of the garden,
Would yell out “Yo!” to get someone’s attention,
Brought his own fresh tomatoes to every luncheon.
He is my Papa.
Some knew him as a man of faith and family,
Blessed our meal at every gathering,
“He who eats the fastest gets the mostest,”
Say the Serenity Prayer to keep calm,
And always remember to keep God closest.
He is my Papa.
Bee the Thread 