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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Father's Day: 49 of 123

I loved walking with you daddy Out where the old trees stand We walked along together My tiny mitten in your gloved hand We walked there every sunday because I knew you like to go I just watch your big foot prints next to my little ones in the snow My feet got wet my nose got cold too But I was brave so I'd never tell you Today I walk alone Out where the old trees stand There is no one here to hold my little mittened hand My feet are wet and my nose is cold But I felt the warmth of the sun that shone and then I remembed Daddy how you carried me all the way home.
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