For My Father Poem by Gill O'Neill
For My Father
Now as I struggle to repay
My father's care,
His constant, gentle acts
Of love -
The melon for a sickly child,
The guitar songs at bedtime,
The unexpected, welcome cheques,
Warm hugs, real solace and concern -
I realize that love
Is not a currency
To be repaid.
Love's not a debt.
It's freely given,
A gift,
A selfless token
Which alone
Proclaims
The giver's worth.
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3/9/2026 4:59:48 PM # 1.0.0
