Wrote a poem for my daddy
just a few weeks ago
'bout how he had a wooden leg
but how he danced with such a flow

Sometimes I got to dance with him
it was always a lovely chance
because even with his wooden leg
my daddy, he sure could dance

But there's so much more to tell
loved his wife and seven kids, too
made a comfortable home for them
worked hard his whole life through

Though his father didn't spare the whip
he vowed he'd never treat us that way
we greatly respected his authority
he'd only speak and we'd obey

Sunday afternoons he'd take us for
leisurely rides in the family car
if we passed a Dairy Queen
I'd say "Daddy, I like ice cream"

I don't remember saying that
but my sisters tell me I did
since he always stopped
they didn't mind their little sister kid

bedtime hugs involved an unusual request
"daddy, please whisker me"
he'd rub his chin on my cheeks
I'd giggle and squeal with glee

He fixed up and painted a bike for me
as I recall it was bright blue
he was there when I was a little one
he was there for me as I grew

He was there to help me learn to drive
and to pick out my very first car
when he walked me down that aisle
I felt like a shining star

He's been gone a really long time
but strong memories I still see
he may have had a wooden leg
but, my daddy, he was perfect to me