A poem for my father, whom by a grace from God I was able to find poetry in real time. My father worked hard during his career as a boiler plant operator/building engineer. Part of the job is doing rounds around the building and mechanical equipment. Using his knowledge and keen eyes for making sure everything is in working order. Now retired he asked me to accompany him as he volunteers to open and close the local church daily, and then it hit me.
Last Rounds
Nights, weekends, and holidays You spent working away Providing for us a sheltered life Never once showing an ounce of strife
Heavy eyes and tired legs Giving up on parties and kegs Boilers roaring on cold winter days Gaining wisdom and showing your grays
Eventually becoming chief of the plant Garnering respect where the rough would not rant For everyone knew what they would lose Bury hatchets and move on from the news
I blinked and now I can see How unfair time can sometimes be For now I grow sad that you are old And it makes the summer breeze feel cold
Now a trip you invite me to see And then some wisdom befell upon me The Lord has some last rounds for you to make And some of His Divine poetry shall I partake
Open the doors and let His people in Close up at night and tuck the Lord in Check the heat and the donation box Check the lights and secure the door locks
The Lord has one more round for you Dad I love you and I'm no longer sad Because God is providing your way And I cant wait to see you there one day