Through These Eyes

The sky rises up
in multi-color fashion,
every stone throw
you’re a fierce assasin.

Castles of sand
crafted by feet and hands
are homes to gods.
Raised to marching bands.

Glorious music
plays in the background.
Cartwheels are fun and
diamonds in mud are found.

The world makes
sense in coves and tulips.
And her eyes
can give sense right to it.

Am I a man?
Or an uncle?
Either title,
no trouble.

Sometimes I can be
not enough to stand,
why do you act like
I’m some superman?

So I’ll stand
strike the band again,
so I can stand
sticking out my chin.

I’ll make castles
of stone for her to live.
Free from peril
all protection shall I give.

I would tear the sky
I would burn the sun
if you wanted snowy
fields you want to run.

So blessed my soul
that you’re my niece.
If you want more beaches
for you I’d drain the sea.

A necessary part
of my soul and heart.
So even in death
from you I’ll never part.

This fierce world
has met it’s match;
no image or picture
could behold or catch.

Your smiles or energy
it’s not so hard to believe
that God would bless me
with you as my niece.

Caroline’s rendering of me two years ago.



Categories: Family, Happiness, Personal, Truth

Tags: , , ,

10 replies

  1. Great work on this, I really enjoyed not only your words but obvious love and appreciation for your niece.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You’re showing the world you’re a “softie” at heart… 🙂 Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

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