My hand in father’s hand  
As we stroll beneath the trees
Up and down the dirt path road
Amidst the evergreens
Which branch out near the bottom
Sharp and pointy at the top
Housing forest animals
Like Mother Nature’s prop
My fathers hand so strong
Grips hard and firm like steel
A kind and gentle man at heart
But his presence you can feel
We dip into the shadows
Until we disappear
Then resume our nature walk on foot
Strolling in the clear