Portrait of My Father

My dad has been gone for 19 years. I was thinking about him alot this week with Father's Day approaching and instead of writing something new, I pulled out something that I gave him for Father's Day when I was in high school. Looks like I've loved words for a long time.

Portrait of My Father

He sits quietly in the comfort of his easy chair. His feet are propped on the stool in front of him and his hands rest in his lap. His head is tilted to one side as he listens to the conversation of his family.

He wears a pair of faded bermuda shorts and a loose fitting cotton shirt. It is tattered like a weather beaten sail that has seen many storms. A pair of thongs hang on his dangling feet.

His hands are long and lean like the expressive hands of a master musician. They are smooth and unmarred by the rigors of manual labor.

The face is calm and thoughtful. The features are softened by a pleasant expression that radiates tranquility. But you see the eyes. The eyes are alive and dancing. They are the vivid blue of a summer sky on a cloudless day. His eyebrows are set gently above the cloudless blue. They move up and down as he ponders what is being said and sifts it, like one sifting the chaff from the grain.

His face is framed by curly black hair. The hair begins to take on a new color just above the left temple. It is gray like an evening fog moving in to envelop the harbor.

Slowly, a smile begins to light his face and he chuckles softly. Then he returns to the serenity that is his gift.

Robin at Pensieve is hosting a unique blog party that had me looking back at things I've written. (She didn't expect me to go back 30+ years!) The challenge: to link your ONE favorite post from your blog. So far there's 47 links and I can't wait to read as many as I can, there are so many talented bloggers!

Hope your weekend is filled with love. And air conditioning. We've hit 100 here the past 2 days.