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A Tribute To My Daddy




December 4, 1924 - February 28, 2003

Dirt and Roses

We went out to the funeral;
it was such a mournful day.
Though the church was all so beautiful
with flowers in sweet array.

The Pastor spoke of him sweetly;
in such a thoughtful way.
The chill ran straight down to the bone,
though it was a sunny day.

We went back to the house to greet
our family and friends;
to try to talk, to try to smile
but grieving all the while.

For we could not stay away you see;
we tried to say goodbye.
But all that remained was a mound of dirt,
with the bright red roses piled high.

~ R. K. Moffitt ~






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