To My Father Poem by Whitney Nicole Albright*

To My Loving Father:



I could never give you a price tag
Or appraise your worth
To measure the amount of love
I've felt for you from birth


Though, I've learned it's the little things
That makes our relationship grand
I'll do my best to explain your uniqueness
So maybe you'll understand


That you're a smile at Turner Field
As Chipper lets one fly
Fireworks shooting from the coke can
On a hot night in July


You're an afternoon ride in a dump truck
Singing with George Strait
You're a busted butt at fifty
In a pair of roller skates


You're a Friday night football game
A big glass of sweet tea
A quarter on the railroad track
And a ham bone on the knee


You're a four-wheeler and a flying cap
An understanding father to admire
You are the upside down bottle rocket
That caught my hair on fire


Yes, you are the man that was my first love
Who always had a pocket full of jokes
And you are the cup of tobacco spit
That I thought was coke


You're the good smell of cigars
On days that went too fast
You're an every night alka seltzer
To feel better fast


But all humor aside,
I will say I'm blessed
For those memories we made
Under the roof of Corner Express


And only the pines and the blue skies know
Of the times of which I speak
Where everything was simple
On the banks of Beaver Creek


Because you are a rocking chair in the evening
The sweet sound of wind chimes
Feeding fish and telling me about life
Back in another time


You're a beard and a scruffy kiss
A swing under a pecan tree
Times and places, they may change
But never will you, to me


Please remember I'm always your girl
And though I couldn't choose
I always thank God that my daddy
Is a hero of mine, named Bruce