Lavenderblue2
06-Feb-07, 12:58
Our Dad’s Hands
Dad had hands like dinner plates
Or so it seemed to me.
He looked so strong and handsome,
Especially when you’re three.
He was always very gentle,
With everything he’s touch.
Those hands were always busy,
And loved so very much.
As children, we always had a bath,
In front of the big log fire.
Then he’s wrap us in a big, white towel,
And never seemed to tire.
Those work worn hands would dry our hair,
And sit us on his knee.
To tell us stories of the war,
When he fought to keep us free.
We never had much money,
But love we had galore.
Those hands were very clever,
Mending shoes and so much more…
Dad had hands like dinner plates
Or so it seemed to me.
He looked so strong and handsome,
Especially when you’re three.
He was always very gentle,
With everything he’s touch.
Those hands were always busy,
And loved so very much.
As children, we always had a bath,
In front of the big log fire.
Then he’s wrap us in a big, white towel,
And never seemed to tire.
Those work worn hands would dry our hair,
And sit us on his knee.
To tell us stories of the war,
When he fought to keep us free.
We never had much money,
But love we had galore.
Those hands were very clever,
Mending shoes and so much more…