When Papa got his squeezebox out
We all knew it was time for fun
An evening of joy and frivolity
After the daily chores were done
Papa played all our favorite tunes
And always let me dance for him
He even taught me some fancy steps
My heart still remembers them
Our Papa was blessed with a talent
That many folks would take for granted
A true God-given flare for music
He made the instruments sound enchanted
His hands grew stiff and gnarled
As the years went flying by
It got harder and harder for him to play
But he never failed to gave it a try
Through sour notes and forgetfulness
He still played each tune with pride
But the squeezebox was silenced forever
The night our dear Papa died
When time turns backward to my youth
And the years of life's hard knocks
The fondest thoughts of my memory
Are of Papa and his old squeezebox
Kathleen McCoy Eldridge©
July 10, 2007
All Rights Reserved
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