A warm smile, a pat on the back, I knew dad was there with me.
He'd been there, felt it, and lived it. Knew both life's challenge and glee.
My dad was a quiet man. Self assured but nearly silent.
When he spoke, you listened. His signal was clear when it was quiet.
Since last year, dad's gone for awhile. No warm "hello" when I call home.
We can't talk 'bout the "suns" or recent travels to Virden or Rome.
No new poem to cherish. No one to mow my lawn or baby to hold.
You're so missed, Dad. But I'm sure you're busy bringing all to God's fold.
Now I look above my desk and see a picture of you and me.
That warm smile, that pat on the back. I know you're still there beside me.