Tag Archives: dad

Life on the Mountainside

I wrote a very short story yesterday entitled You Know You’re in a Small Town if… which naturally had me reminiscing and dreaming about those days up on the mountain.  Some of us constantly need people around.  Some are happier being alone.  And somewhere in the middle is a really nice place to live. Continue reading Life on the Mountainside

The Innocence of Children

How can a child look at little black ants crawling up and down the bark of a tree and become so fascinated?

There was a Man and a Woman.  And there were ex-wives and ex-husbands.  And there were friends and family giving the Man and Woman their advice on how the world should be.  There were work conflicts and roommates with different points of view and there were bills to be paid.

And in the middle of it all was a Little Girl. Continue reading The Innocence of Children


Will she thinks of me as she’s tucked into bed
A chuckle and smile as the pillow meets her head
Bedtime stories that I used to read
Bears and Birds and Squirrels in trees
Things upon which a three year old dreams
Will she think of me as the moon joins the stars
How it’s chuck full of cheese
Little green men up on Mars
How little we are, great big is the world
But only as big as little imaginations sure are
Will she think of me as she opens her eyes
A moment of stretches, of yawns and sighs
Chasing feet through pant legs
Coats and mittens on cold days
Twice the time getting ready, I like it that way
Will she think of me when a friend speaks of Dad
Does she see me as a father, as just her Dad
A man who held her and hugged her
And wiped away her sad tears
I’ll think of her for the rest of my years