He was a quiet man, he was a helpful caring man. Handsome in his youth a dashing man,a fighter for rights. A union man, a fighting for the under dog man, a “I’ll do it if I can man” .
He met my Mum, a wooing man, a handsome flashing eyed Irishman. A black haired almost wild man, a stand up for what I am man. A good man to trust your life to and my Mum did, he was an out in the open man what see is what you get man nothing hid.
He worked hard he was a family man. A sturdy, bring home the wages man, a giver, comforter a lover man. A home maker man some one to carry the can man, a there until the end man.
He was a stern man, when you had done wrong, though he was a quick to praise man , happy to teach you a lessen in a song man. A teacher man,sometimes a preacher man an always there when it counted man.
He was a father of the bride man, and he handed all his daughters away, he was the man who supported his sons when they became the married men. He was a support man, and adviser man the lover of lilies of the valley man. He was reunited with my Mum man when they saw us all gone. He was a plain man to the end man, not a flourish and bouquet, blackmagic man,an honest to the end man.
He was a deaf man, but he heard what was important man! At the end, a blind man, in stature a tiny man in truth a giant man. A truly missed man , a wish you where here man. He is a gone but not a forgotten man.
willowdot21 