Allan my father

Boy in the 50s on a mission, 
Always seemed be fishing. 
Mama hard at work all day, 
daddy hunting brandy they say. 
Dropped school help with bills,
struggling climb that big hill. 
In his path he helped many, 
long list people of plenty. 
Six mouths to feed few more, 
My dads heart was never poor.
Cant imagine what he has seen, 
Revisits our wants an needs. 
Set high morale standards too, 
Never judgemental or cruel. 
Creature of habit routine,
Loved mom more than I seen. 
Compliment his charm an gaze, 
Just snickers as he walks away. 
Lost his brother best friend, 
what he would give to see again.
That's my father Allan, 
 very fickle lovable man!