In the quiet dawn of morning,
When the world still seems so new,
A father’s touch, so gentle,
Guides me through and through.

With wisdom in his eyes,
And strength within his hands,
He bears the weight of worries,
So I might understand.

His laughter is a melody,
That heals the deepest scars,
A comfort in the darkness,
A light among the stars.

Though time may age his features,
His spirit remains bold,
A father’s love, unending,
A treasure to behold.