Poem for my father

My Dad

                                                             
It's been a year since father died.
Amazing how time flies.
Siblings, mum, and I had a befitting memorial.
I can't but say life is a stage.
I still recall how father was young, so young, and so much fun.

Father was tall, so tall, he went on and on
Father had lots of friends.
We had family parties each Christmas, it was such a thrill.
Father would pick me after school, that was bliss!! I had lots of Ice cream!
One by one father's friends left the scene, leaving but a few.
When we leave the body, the stage play is over.
Act 1, scene 1, the morning of our lives, we are birthed.
Act 1, scene 2, the afternoon, we run around the world, looking for what?
Act 1, scene 3, night time, we die.
What is left? 

the scripts written in-between.

Scribbling out loud for my loving dad, Julius Olatunde Eniola (14th Mar.1937- 19th June 2014)

2015, by Jumoke Odepe