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Early that morning daddy promised he’d come home,
Then across to the big park and lake they would roam,
They would have a nice picnic, play in the warm sand,
The phone rang he had to work late, they’d understand.

They went with mother, had lots of good times and fun,
But missed daddy playing and things he would have done,
They were fast asleep when he came home tired as can be,
Even too tired to eat a meal or to show love and hospitality.

Time after time, a high trouble shooting dad wasn’t there,
It was not that he didn’t for his growing children care,
But work was important, he was the boss, they needed him,
There would be time later to have fun with wife and children.

Mother worked so hard to try and fill the gap, every time
A promise was broken, the children no longer did whine,
But came to accept the disappointment that hurt inside,
Now it was not so hard the tears and the pain to hide.

The eldest daughter’s wedding day came, how fast they grow,
That devoted working father his eldest daughter did not know,
Did not know her favourite colour or even her best friends,
Did not remember her growing, too late now to make amends.

On the morning after the great wedding day the parent saw
Each side their bed two baskets, filled with papers galore,
Excited they looked inside, to see what each paper said,
Then the father in despair cried as he humbly bowed his head.

For every piece of paper was a tear stained promise broken,
A sad heart of a child that for years she had never spoken,
But written the hurt down, to help, maybe heal the pain,
I love you daddy, said one, don’t break your promise again.

The mother looked, her basket too was full to the top
Hundreds of thank you’s she thought they’d never stop,
The father took the mother’s basket with eyes full of tears,
Look what I have missed through all those growing years

Father’s take note of the full basket of a broken hearted child,
They grow up so fast, stop have fun, run barefoot and wild
With your children across the sand, sit and play in the sun
So no basket full of broken promises your way will come.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson August 11, 2002