To Father, With Love

It was father’s day.
Reluctantly she would wish him.
Reluctantly?!
Yes, one of the rare occasions,
When she confided in him,
And reiterated that she loved him.
Loved him, indeed she did.
Her confidant; Her mentor,
Her dear father.
He meant everything to her.
And, it was yet another Fathers day.
With a bunch of scarlet carnations,
She was on her way to wish him.
Wondering if he liked carnations.
“I am a laudable daughter,” she said to her self.
“Laudable enough not to know my fathers favorite flowers.”
With a tear, with a sigh,
She walked on to greet her father.
Reaching the gate,
Hesitant, yet she had to wish him.
For he meant everything to her.
She moved on with agony…
Standing next to his grave,
She placed the carnations,
Paralyzed and uncertain she wept,
Wept immensely.
None to wipe her tears… she wept.
Her father, her dear father had closed his eyes
when she had just opened them.