Summer: The Season of My Father

A wistful memory of one I hold dear

Summers in the hayfield with my father

Who lived his life without fear

Many summers passed happily together

Telling jokes about round bales

And how the animals don't get a square meal

My father was known to tell lots of tall tales

He haggled and hustled and made bargains and deals

With a beer in his hand and Gatorades in the cooler

We loaded the square bails and learned how to maneuver

We'd bring back stories to Mom that would fool her.

He taught us the value of hard work and good humor.

Summers spell memories with my father a plenty.

Filled with hard work, smiles, and hearts that weren't empty.