When I was small,
He seemed so tall,
A giant whose voice
Could be heard by all;
His steps would echo,
His arms so strong,
And nothing he did
Could ever be wrong.
“He’s a genius” I thought,
Way ahead of the crowd,
He was my dad,
And I was so proud.
When I was a teen,
He seemed kind of mean,
Not very smart,
And not very keen;
Yes, he was tall,
But still kind of plain,
No titles or honors
Accompanied his name;
"He's just my dad,"
I would say with a wink,
Now I was the genius,
Or so I did think.
When I was adult,
And my flag I unfurled,
I set our ready
To conquer the world;
As I traveled and studied
And earned my degree,
Something remarkable
Had happened to me;
As titles and honors
To my name I accrued,
True love and respect
For my Dad was renewed.
My dad is much older,
And his age he now shows,
But also his wisdom
And the things that he knows;
I remember the lessons
He once gave to me,
Of hard work, and patience
And honesty;
And I teach these same lessons
To my own little lad,
For time has moved on,
And now I am the dad.
Mark W. Leavell, Th.D.,
Copyright 2006 - All Rights Reserved

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