Dispensing meds to heal the hurt, He never treats us like some dirt But takes the time to laugh and joke. And always with a gentle stroke.
Such goodness from a gallant heart. And thus we call him King Edward. The kindest soul who's ward, IΒ Β find, Is a kingdom (within his mind).
I pray God that your goodness goes Around the world both to and fro To ease the feeble, here and there, From all the throes of life's despair.
Kudos to Father's everywhere. And "praise" for nurses that do care.
For Edward Robinson (RN), my new friend at OS Tybee on this beautiful Father's Day 2018.
Revised July 1, 2018. In order to make this poem a "Sonnet," like it was intended to be, the last two verses (having been mistakenly omitted) are now added.