Fountain, the father of the father of my children’s father,
honored is this name from distant kin,
An ancestor to me unknown, yet the lineage begins.
In the shadows of time, his presence concealed,
A legacy passed as family heritage is revealed.
Florentine, the father of the father of my children,
Honored is this forebearer from days gone by,
His stories are left untold, beneath the cerulean sky.
Ancestry, in black and white photos, is seldom seen,
His influence lingers, in the family’s dream.
Kendall, the man I married, and our children’s father,
He carries the past unknown, now in a familiar face,
He carries the echoes of a familial in the now, in this place.
I am grateful for the names from the past, part of our story,
From father to father to father, a heritage, a legacy of glory.
Names on cold stone, never forget, are the roots of our fathers
Grateful I am for the cherished roots that entwine,
The names of the past, through generations, are divine.
A connection through time, where memories are sown,
I honor the fathers, known and unknown.

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