UNDER THE VIOLETS
by Ronnie G. Summerville
His hands are cold, his face is white,
no more years to spend with him.
While sorrow fills the air.
His eyes are shut to life & light.
While parting is such sweet sorrow.
All loved one's will miss him,
Oh, special of the sun, if you know what I mean.
Oh where, oh where has he gone, my dearest daddy.
off in the the wild blue he has gone.
Oh, lay him to rest where the violets BLOW!!