a father's presence
By moonstar
Once there was an old white tee shirt filled with strong arms- Arms that lifted me into the air, and twirled me and danced with me and put me on a pedestal nobody else could reach. And with those arms came a voice- a deep, booming voice; a kind, gentle voice. The voice that taught me how to read, how to respect, a voice that said I'd always be his baby and sang from the heart of honest love. And with that voice was a pair of eyes- a deep set of stern eyes that carried me away. Eyes that pierced me and soothed me and KNEW me, and those eyes reflected more wisdom, more love, more pride and sorrow than I'll ever know. Now what's left is a hollow emptiness and a longing to feel it all once more. Now all that's left is a memory of life and reality of death. Now I just close my eyes and hope for a dream of comforting arms, and beautiful eyes, and a voice only a father has to sing me to sleep. Written February 27th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 05:43 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"Once there was an old white tee shirt ..."