A poem for ..My Beloved Dad Bob Ross on his first birthday since he left us.
Not our usual birthday get together that’d become a wee tradition
Where you would sit, rum in hand and I would sit in awe and listen
With words you’d paint a picture, take me to places I’ll never see
Stories from all over the world...And you, you, were the world to me
Some of those photos told of adventures before you walked down civvy street
Usually we would add in more but leaving pages still to complete
I used to think I loved that album, filled with the times we’d had
It’s taken until now to realise, what I really loved, was just being with you Dad
Father dear, you were my hero and I miss your stories every day
I’m now so very grateful for those moments, just sad that you couldn’t stay
So Happy Birthday Dad, today I’ll raise a glass for you
...Well if I’m honest, in true Ross style, I’ll probably raise two 🥃🥃
Fiona Ross
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