Beneath the oak tree
Down here beneath the old oak tree
My daddy used to sing to me.
He sang of love, of joy, of pain
He sang right there despite the rain.
Now that I am getting old
I try to remember what was told
By my daddy about life
On happiness, sorrow, about strife.
I wish I had my daddy now
So he could show me life and how
To live the best life it can be
It will take effort all from me.
©2020 CBialczak Poetry