A SONG FOR FATHER – by Charles Schokman

Contents

In response to my email on Father’s Day I received this note from Dodwell Keyt which states:—

“I wrote this song for my father. He was born 120 years ago on 27 August.

The words were taken from my new book titled ‘Christmas in Ceylon’

There’s a tear or two in there somewhere.

Why do we yearn so much for those memories. Precious memories.

The song titled “FATHER” is beautifully sung by Siera Keyt. worth listening to.

and passing on.

FATHER

(A song for father)

[Verse 1] In our home’s amber glow On a wide veranda the breezes know He sat in his cane chair, white shorts and pride A cigarette burning by his side Eyes closed, but never truly gone “Just resting,” he’d say, as dusk moved on The ash would hang like time stood still And the silence spoke louder than any will [Chorus] Oh, the smoke in the evening light Rising slow, soft as night Carrying dreams past the red-tiled roof Like prayers or secrets, gentle truth He was the calm, the steady hand The quiet heart of our island land Not a single word out of place But love lived in his silent grace

[Verse 2] Customs man in his uniform white Silver badge catching morning light We’d watch him go with awe and pride Our island’s guardian at the tide But come each dusk, he’d reappear In that same old chair, with all of us near The Daily News spread like a map of care And we’d find our peace just being there [Chorus] Oh, the smoke in the evening light Like incense rising into night From fingers long, refined, composed A quiet man the whole house chose To anchor dreams and calm our storms To keep us safe, to keep us warm Without the need for grand displays He built our world in quiet ways [Bridge] By the murunga tree, we’d play Mimicking him in our own way Stick cigarettes, puff-puff in hand Tiny twins in a make-believe land We didn’t yet know what it meant to be A man like him, with silent dignity But we watched, we learned, we tried to see The strength in his humility

[Verse 3] Sometimes he’d pinch with a dancer’s toes A playful tease, the love that shows Not in speeches, but in laughs and glances And old cane chairs that took their chances Through monsoon years, through children’s cries He held it all — no need to try It came as natural as evening breeze As sure as stars above palm trees [Final Chorus] Oh, the smoke in the evening light Still dances in my dreams at night And though that chair stands empty now His love still sits on that old brow Of our home, our hearts, his legacy The man who simply let us be Loved without demand or fight Like smoke in the evening light… [Outro – Spoken or Sung Softly] He found his place, and called it good A king without a crown who stood In silence, in service, in soft delight My father — in the evening light.

Thank you for your gracious offer to share the video and song of my father with your contacts. Please do. My father would be happy.

This is a photograph of myself and my two brothers in Bambalapitiya. I believe I was about six or seven at the time. I am the blonde haired, short guy in the middle with the colourful shirt. I was the only one in the family to grow blonde hair; of course, it has greyed somewhat over the years. The blondness change when I reached my teen years.