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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