In my father there was the  greatness
Of poetry-the poetry of greatness.
About true greatness is that it never
Is just was but is and will be.  The
Same is true of true poetry when the
Cliche is someone will hear it again as
When it was brand new and it will be
The echo heard down the corridors of
Time.  No-one speaks to all men, the
Lone man is the universal man and love
Comes again to the despised overcoming
All injury.  Greater than the greatest dreams
Realized the sun is a candle to the Father
He is gone and I shall not see his like again.