In the gentle shadows of fading light,
A figure stands strong, both tender and bright.
Some called him Peepaw, with laughter and cheer,
But to me, he was Dad, my heart held him near.
His hands, worn and weathered, like pages of time,
Held stories and wisdom, both simple and sublime.
With a soft-spoken voice, he whispered sweet dreams,
In a world full of noise, he was my quiet stream.
We’d sit 'neath the stars, share secrets and tales,
Mapped out our futures, as the night softly pales.
His laughter was music, a comfort, a balm,
In the tempest of life, he was my sheltering calm.
From childhood to now, through seasons that passed,
He taught me love’s lessons that forever would last.
With every embrace, he stitched warmth in my soul,
In the fabric of family, he wove the whole.
Now silence hangs heavy where laughter once played,
A void in my heart, a bittersweet shade.
Yet in memories cherished, his spirit remains,
In each quiet moment, his love still sustains.
So, I look to the heavens, where angels now soar,
And whisper my love, while I cherish the lore.
Rest softly, dear Dad, in the light up above,
For some called him Peepaw, but he was my love.