Waiting For The Father

Sipping wine and sitting by the quayside
The old man gazes out to sea
Eating bread and sitting by the quayside
He waits so patiently. Though ships may come and ships may go
Through the wind the rain the sleet and the snow
The oldman's gaze is fixed endlessly
Far out across the blue turquoise sea. Mothers, fathers wrap up against the cold
From afar you watch your children grow old
It's up to the them the paths they take
It's up to them the mistakes they may make. Now the old man is buried on the hill
But his soul is searching still
Like a statue stands guard on the quay
Watching, waiting for you and me. Sipping wine and sitting by the quayside
I find myself gazing out to sea
My son sits quietly beside me
In his heart he's already free.

by Lawrence Andrew Cade

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