These hands that hold mine,
In warm embrace,
Each scar has a story,
Each line has been traced,
These hands that catch me
Each time I leap,
And tuck me into bed
When I fall asleep,
These hands that right me
When I fall down,
And pat me on the back,
And turn me around,
These hands that show me,
How I should live,
To build things and play hard,
To respect and give,
These hands are my guide,
For who to be,
Their strength, warmth and safety
Are precious to me.
And someday, Daddy,
They will be mine,
Hands that help in your life,
Like yours did in mine.
Happy Father’s Day!
Written by W. C. McClure http://www.wcmcclure.com. This poem may be shared (and please do); just please be sure to share it in its entirety, unaltered (and including this fine print), with credit given to W. C. McClure. Comments are welcome at http://www.farsideofdreams.com. Oh, and if you want to show your support, tell your friends about this short story blog – and pick up a copy of “The Statues of Azminan” by W. C. McClure. Thanks!
Short Stories and Meanderings 
I know this sentiment is for that beautiful boy in his daddy’s hands and it is an incredibly powerful statement and photo!. But the overlap to your own “daddy” is a fantasy no dad anywhere could pass soaking up regardless. You have an amazing mind and ability to speak it. I love you. Dad
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