Ode to Dad

Always a sweet, nostalgic weekend when Father’s Day rolls around. This year feeling a little silly so I wrote a limerick for my full-Irish father coupled with some new artwork.

My pops, he was a true bowling champ

Who weekly pitched spheres down the long ramp.

His nickname was Shorty

A real hoot, oh lordy.

He would howl that his ball’s now a lamp.


A close up showing his initialed ball – C.P.O. for Clarence Patrick O’Connor.


His hole-in-one trophy serves as finial on top.


The art piece that hangs near the lamp is thanks to my neighbor, Becky Johnson. Note the personal touches she added – Shorty written on his shirt and his initials on the ball.


Special thanks to Pam Michel, electrician extraordinaire who assembled the pieces and made the lamp actually light up. And to neighbor, Jack Meredith, who when asked if he could drill all the way through a bowling ball replied, “I love working with artists.”


One Comment on “Ode to Dad

  1. This makes me tear up. And dad would “howl” that you’ve ruined a perfectly good bowling ball.


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