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The man who always had an open door
Drove us to Waikanae before the dawn
A team with Mum, adventurer by the shore,
A champion bat-and-bowler on the lawn.
I felt his prickly chin against my cheek
When by the fire we would sit a while;
Club’s barman at the end of every week,
There by my side for my walk down the aisle.
Like our sandcastles standing bright and tall
Right up ‘til tide would say their time was done;
You didn’t pay your illness heed at all,
You lived without the battle, so you won.
Loved by so many, you gave all you had.
Loved so by me, for being my loving Dad.

A poem for a father

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