I was told this today, of which I wasn’t aware.

Liverpool’s Croxteth Park, my Dad went there!

With his Niece Janet, my Dad went to play.

To think, I was in Croxteth Park the other day!

They played football together, chasing the ball.

My Dad made Janet aware, football was for all!

As that wasn’t always the case, way back then.

And Janet still loves footy thanks to ‘Uncle Len’

I can imagine Dad and Janet playing their game.

And in the background the fantastic mini train!

I rode on that mini train track a few days ago.

I wonder if Dad saw me from Heaven, I hope so!

I never got to play footy with him, yes that’s sad.

But that doesn’t mean, I don’t love Len my Dad.

 

(Sadly, I never knew my Dad, but after I posted a poem on Facebook about a recent visit to Croxteth Park in Liverpool, a distant realtive let me know my Dad took her to play football in the same park, so that's how this poem about)