Weekend Dad Poem by mark lund

Friday afternoon
an early finish
two hours to York
driving the usual route
Skipton, Ilkley, Otley
and on to Boston spa
Tadcaster and up the sixty four

I knock on the door
my boy waiting
nonchalant but sure
hand over the cash
feels like im renting him
lets make a dash

In the car heading west
the little game of not stopping
not even for harewood house
ben on his seat hopping

Fish n chips at hellifield
always the best
with a can of coke
who can belch the loudest

Nearly home
through the door
telly on, light the fire
just in time for a
question of sport
and more

Fighting for the sofa
my boy n me
close at last
my heart allowed to be

Saturday morning starts
with a sleep in
then bacon butties
only the best for him

Sunshine outside
takes us to the river
throwing stones into big rock mouth
Ben always the winner

Home for pizza and tv
and the great game of uppy
till the fires last flicker
to bed tired and sleepy

Sunday, never a good day
to short hes here
and in a few hours
we are back on the road
holding back the tear

Total silence
as we return
pulling up outside the house
his hesitation speaks volumes
silence from his mouth

Encouragement from me
yet we know it has to be

A last hug, we both know this isn't right
he deals with it better
my stomach tight

Sometimes
as I drive down the street
he runs along side
faster and faster
his little feet

The lump in my throat
holding back the tears
until im out of sight