Squeaky bare feet / A father’s memory

squeaky bare feet

At first I thought it strange
noises coming from the kitchen
knowing you should be sound asleep
and so I blew it off until
same sound echoed down the hall
and then I sat up wondering.
Slowly I removed myself from bed
tiptoed down the hall to look and see
and there you were, dancing
barefoot on the tiles, squeak -squeak.
I smiled a smile that speaks
a thousand thoughts instantly
taking in the beauty of each swirl
that only a father gets to see.
You may never know my little girl
how much love you gave me that night
but magic was in the air along with
a memory that burns true and bright.
Then you became like a kaleidoscope
that changed before my very eyes
but squeaky bare feet shall always be
the daughter I love continually.
I miss you so much

2 Comments

burn baby burn

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