|Daddy's hands held me gingerly as a babe,
his face filled with awe at the wonder that he made.
Daddy's hands comforted me when sad
and disciplined me when bad.
Daddy's hands worked hard
to provide for me and mine.
Daddy's hands are missing now;
gone to Our Father above.
I miss my daddy's hands;
and the man they were attached to.
I miss the Love held for me in those hands;
teaching me, guiding me, and guarding me.
May I feel those loving hands again someday.