An old radio,
trickles out classic oldies.
The soulful sound
of the historical rock
describes the grizzled man
sitting closely to the ancient stereo
perfectly.
A cigarette,
balanced precariously
in the large dirty ashtray
burns,
inducing a bright blue trail of toxic smoke
wafting into the air,
releasing the strong but homely stench.
The unmistakeable smell of coffee looms faintly
like a small beacon of bliss.
Evidence of a house well lived in
is merrily obvious
in the items lying about.
Coming from the cool crisp air of autumn,
into the solid warmth,
and simple comforts of home
was always my favourite untainted joy.
To rely on the cheery smile and genuine love
of my father,
who never falters in his presence
is the greatest
treasure of home.
In loving memory of my Father
