Party over , we were settling down,
I was holding one of nephew.
As I grasped him so tight, I saw a strange sight:
My hands… they looked like my dad’s!
I remember them well, those old gnarled hooks,
there was always a cracked nail or two.
They were rough, I remember, incredibly tough,
But holding a scared little boy at night,
they seemed to me awfully nice!
The sight of those hands – how impressive it was
in the eyes of his little boy.
Thinking back, misty-eyed, and thinking ahead,
when one day my time is done.
The torch of love in my own wrinkled hands
will pass on to the hands of my son.
I don’t mind the bruises, the scars here and there
or the hammer that just seemed to slip.
I want most of all when my son takes my hand,
to feel that love lies in the grip...
Happy birthday Dad... We miss you... #party #birthday #hands #dad #tough #littleboy #wrinkle #missing #travel #tamasha #wanderer #life #love #pictures #poetry #poem #diaries #dreams