Papa's Hands

His hands were dark, sure and strong.
They held hers tight as they walked along.
Her tiny feet stumbled as she walked,
but all the way, the two, they talked
of birds and trees and butterflies
and how beautiful she was in his eyes.

And as she grew he always had time
to sit and talk, or share a rhyme.
No matter whether day or night
he'd always help turn wrong to right.
When she was young, he'd tell her stories
of other lands and days of glory.
Time passed and soon twas she
who told of adventures over the sea.
He taught her to dance, and to play chess,
pay attention to what's important, forget the rest.

And as she sat by his hospital bed
Turmoil inside her, filled with dread,
There were the dark, strong, sure hands,
adorned with a simple wedding band.
She knew that he had spoken at last
his final chapter before he passed,
And forever more her heart was seared
with the words of a man she held so dear.