Father's Love

In a quiet town by the shimmering sea, Lived a father, kind and wise as could be. With hands rough and worn from years of toil, He worked each day, turning earth's rich soil.

- Sarita Wariyer

His eyes, a deep blue, held stories untold, Of battles he fought and dreams made of gold. Yet the brightest of stars in his vast sky Was the child he cradled, never asking why.

From dawn's first light to the evening's fall, He'd hear the soft voice of his child call. Together they'd wander through meadows and streams, Sharing laughter, secrets, and dreams.

The child grew tall, with eyes full of fire, Inheriting the father's heart and desire. They'd sit by the hearth, the fire's soft glow, As the father's words, like rivers, did flow.

“Life is a journey,” he gently would say, “Full of wonders and trials that come your way. But know, my dear, in joy or in strife, You are the brightest star in my life. ”

Through storms and calm, through night and day, The father's love never did sway. A beacon of light, a sheltering tree, He stood firm, steadfast, as love should be.

Years passed swiftly, as years often do, The child now grown, their dreams in full view. Yet always in the heart, a place kept warm, By the father's love, a harbor from storm.

And though time may fade the strongest stone, The father's love remains, forever known. In the whispers of the wind, the scent of the sea, A timeless bond, for eternity.