Clifford

Clifford
By Mark Spencer

Let's reflect for just a moment,
Step back in time a bit,
And see the impact of a life,
We never will forget.

Born during the Great Depression,
The times would set the stage.
He was loved by two families,
At such a tender age.

He grew up with fire in his veins,
The earth shook where he walked.
Mighty nations felt his presence,
And listened when he talked.

But that is not what made him great,
There's so much more, you see.
The most important thing to Cliff,
Was you...his family.

A son of spirit and of blood,
He was fearless and loud;
But when his parents needed him
He always made them proud.

He was the brother you could call,
Whenever there was need.
For every wound life dealt to you,
His heart would also bleed.

He was a diligent husband,
Determined to provide;
Unwavering in his duty,
To take care of his bride.

And as a father Clifford shined,
He loved his little girls.
Their photographs adorned his walls,
To him, they were the world.

And when the holidays came 'round,
His nephews would drop by,
Turkey, yams, and Easter egg hunts,
My how the years flew by.

But those times will live on in me,
And every one of you.
We're all part of this family,
And Clifford was the glue.

For he's been there for each of us,
As he will always be.
His spirit lives within our hearts;
We are his legacy,

So celebrate this special soul,
This man who walked with kings,
Let every heart and soul rejoice,
For he has EARNED his wings.

This poem was written in memory of Clifford Thompson, my late uncle.