My Father's Cup

This is a poem for my father
Who died a long time ago;
I'm glad I got to meet him,
Even though it was sad
He never saw me grow up.

There was always a piece
In the puzzle that was missing,
Now I know he loved me a lot.

He was a simple man who
Was a school bus driver and
Got used to the laughter and
Screaming of kids for years

He used to read my older brother's
Text books from college and had
Some wisdom to hand down to me
When we got together for a drink

This morning I slept in, so had
To rush to catch the bus to school
And carried my father's clay cup,
To drink coffee along the way

On that cup there is a goden tuba
Painted on it and words, "There's
Still a lot of oomph in the old papa"