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My daddy's doll lay hidden away
Toes and fingers missing,
Face worn down with kissing,
Arms and legs all out of whack,
Hardly a spot without a crack,
Tiny scuffed knees, holes in its head,
Dressed in a dirty suit of red,
Not worth a penny to anyone...
Nobody wanted to play
With my daddy's doll.

My daddy walks, limping and slow,
Hugs grandchildren by the score,
Arms always open for one child more,
Laugh lines, worry wrinkles,
Blue eyes still full of twinkles,
Strong, rough hands, thick white hair,
Rocking in his rocking chair,
Singing somebody's baby to sleep.
A little boy did that long ago
With my daddy's doll.

My daddy's doll lay hidden away
Until somebody's baby found it there,
Kissed its cheeks and curly hair,
Its impish mouth and broken toes,
Twinkly eyes and button nose,
Wrapped together, safe and warm,
In her great-grandpa's loving arms,
Listening to stories old and new
About a little boy who loved to play
With my daddy's doll.

Learn more about this author, Rinda M. Byers.
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