Bill Grace


:) My Dad's Classic Faith - Poem by Bill Grace

At 50 I finally see
what precocious 10 could sense
but not articulate
The Mass - was only the ice berg's tip at sea.

Dad was an earnest lad
son of a Gloucester gal,
sweet fish monger of deep faith,
and an alcoholic father
who wounded Dad's deep pride.

War and a Naushon Forbes
gave father his life long tasks
he understood the savagery of life
yet left the chimes of music to a valley.

"Pop" would not take a drink
the Pope could not have ordered it
nor any lesser mortal,
his hope was in that Mass,
though he may well have known -
but never said a word -
that Father's secretary
took care of more than paper.

Do not carelessly dismiss
this thing called faith
that spared me an alcoholic father
a harsh man who could not understand a poet son
he understood this world
I can not blame his need of hope for another.

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Comments about :) My Dad's Classic Faith by Bill Grace

  • Rookie Sandra Fowler (9/10/2007 2:31:00 AM)

    A fine word portrait of a most extraordinary human being. Take care.

    Warm regards,

    Sandra (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: father, faith, son, fish, hope, pride, music, war, sea, world, life, fishing



Poem Submitted: Monday, March 7, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 25, 2014


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