True

One day I'm up in my room

Doing some pictures.

Dad comes up the stairs

Slowly.

I look up.

He's just standing in the doorway  

Looking dreamy.

‘What are you doing?’ I say  

"Writing your tea," he says.

And then he stops, slaps his head

Bursts out laughing.

I can hear him

All the way downstairs,

Chuckling away,

Pleased as can be,

Mad as a marrow.  

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