At last my one ambition is fulfilled
I have a desk where I may write at will
No more the dining table or a board
A two desk family is safely moored
Men must have their study if they write
Though grandad was a coalminer at night
And Father was a writer in gold paint
Embellishing the Churches with quotes quaint
He also did The Stations of the Cross
Then he died, what torment ,oh what loss.
We went to see his grave and said a prayer
Jesus was so quiet, hardly there.
But I believe in love and always will
Now I’ll write my poems with a quill