Son and father

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I wrote this poem to read at my Dad's funeral. 

Son and father

Funny to think that I once watched you,

As you stood here, a man my age,

On the day you spoke the postscript,

On your father's final page.

I stand today, both son and father,

I look towards both bow and stern,

I mourn the setting but even more so,

I greet the dawn, the world's next turn.

I hear your humour in my kids' banter,

I see your strength in my kids' steel,

I feel your warmth in my kids' kindness,

Your adventure in their vim and zeal.

What your father taught you, you remoulded,

And passed it onward, to your son,

And I in turn will take the good stuff,

Make it mine and pass it on.

No one's gone who's still remembered,

Your voice is dimmed but I hear it plain,

As your father spoke through you so,

Echoes of your thoughts remain.

And so we say goodbye with fondness,

As much with laughter as with sorrow,

We grieve the passing of your sunlight,

But yet we hail our bright tomorrow.

By Pete Thomas