The Archer Poem by Loyd C Taylor Sr
The Archer
With firm yet gentle hands he stood,
Cradling an arching shred of wood.
Not as the archer prepares for the battle,
Or as the hunter with quiver to saddle,
But as a dad with a young infant child
Nurses it gracefully, tenderly mild;
When the trusting one drifts off to sleep,
The adoring father beams without a peep.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: tribute
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Just allowing my muse to lead me as I penned this one. Hope you enjoy, Loyd
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 1:11:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
