DADDY'S HANDS
 

I loved him dearly,
Precious Daddy of mine.
A man of simplicity,
Gentle and kind.

He toiled day and night,
A hardworking man...
Scarred and stained
Were my Daddy's hands.

Devoted to my mother,
Protective of me,
He made a good home
For our family of three.

Though tired and worn
He made no demands,
Strong yet gentle
Were my Daddy's hands.

A sense of security
He provided for me.
He was my anchor
In life's stormy sea.

Now with tear-filled eyes,
Over his casket I stand,
Cold and frail
Are my Daddy's hands.

Never again will
They struggle and strive,
To carve out a living
For his daughter and wife.

For God has reached down
From His celestial land,
And taken hold
Of my dear Daddy's hands.

Though I miss him so
And my life's not the same,
Sometime in the future
I will see him again.

When I too shall enter
Heaven so grand,
Where I can once more
Hold my dear Daddy's hand.

Written for my Father
By Cheryll Mayberry Smith