Thicker than Water

Thought I’d bring you these;
you always liked daffodils.
OK. I know I should visit more,
yet in a strange kind of way,
feel closer than ever before.
Never told you this, but often,
as a kid, I hated you. Dreaded
those times Mum said, “Say
goodbye to your dad. He’s off
abroad again.” Boot’s on the other
foot now, as the old adage goes.

Chris is forever complaining,
says I’m never at home.
But I’ve a job to do – bills
have to be paid. I just go
where I’m sent – where the
work is. Isn’t that right? Beggars
can’t be choosers. Chances are
my youngest hates me too
and who could blame him?
Incidentally – dead spit of you;
same shaped face.

I’ll put these flowers in water –
best throw last time’s away. Felt
a drop or two of rain then. Nippy
up here; it sure does blow a gale!
Fantastic view though. Shame
you can’t appreciate it … or
maybe you can. Who knows?
So – I’ll be off then. Plane
to catch. Sounds familiar, eh?
Oh … and, Dad …
same time next year?