Uncle Dick Died Last Week

Uncle Dick died last week. He was a market gardener and good friend of my father's. The event brought back memories of Dad. I wrote this. I don't know if all of it is true.

My father was a kind man

In times of war he was not adverse to killing
Or sleeping with strangers

He believed in everyone
Guaranteed no one

SO LONG

Of course after dinner
He wanted to call it a day

The party was over
The festivities done
But they talked well into the night
Lingering on the bottom of the bottle
They wanted somewhere to belong

Never realised
It was all over
Jesus, himself
Was the first to get up from the table
He knew the time had come to move on