June 28, 2013
My Dad (Was referred to as “Shadows” earlier JR/2018)
by Isabel Welby
Shadows flickering on my bedroom window slats Stir up memories long past Of my dear father's kind and thoughtful ways How can this be? Memories lasting seventy years! They come creeping back on afternoons When walking with my dad though village lanes To banks of primrose flowers And carpets of blue bells woods. They will remain the same From those far off days When shadows of long past No longer flicker on my window slats
