Dather's Fay

My dad had a wicked wit
He’d always make me grin 
He’d jiggle his ears
And tell his wokes
Words he loved to spin

“Barking spiders” for farts
Just one of his games
He’d tease beans 
And runny noses
And remember names

Stretch a dad joke for miles
But tell it so good
People gathered
Round to listen
Expecting more than they should

He’d slap the punchline down
With a glint in his eye
Some would laugh
Some get mad
He’d half so lard, he’d cry

My dad was an imp
He loved so to laugh
He would jest
Briggle his wow
And loved a good gaffe

His chuckle a blessing
From heap inside dim
It rumbled
Spilled over
Spoonerisms enticed him

I honor him each day
No matter time of year
He’s my dad
My first laugh
Memories I’ll always revere

Author's Note:
spoonerism [ˈspo͞onəˌrizəm] noun
a verbal error in which a speaker accidentally transposes the initial sounds or letters of two or more words, often to humorous effect

Yeah, my dad was all about laughter. Wit and warp were his way.
He was never cruel; he teased with kindness and always aimed to brighten someone else’s day. Thoughtful, gentle, and sharp as hell; he was, quite simply, amazing.

For more some of his poetry (maybe his?), head over to Poetry by Dad.

For more about the man behind these lines—and the poems that raised me—subscribers can read A Father’s Gifts. — Liora
voice through fire | www.liorawrites.com