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Friday, 8 June 2018

Happy Fathers Day Poems 2018

  • The cutest and the maximum tenuous relationship isn’t among individuals who are in love. (as you, in all likelihood, used to assume)! It`s about the connection between Father and Child! What can be greater touching than the way how a father appears after his small daughter and his naughty son defensive her from one of a kind troubles and solving even the smallest issues. Read here for some of sweet, emotional, inspirational and Short Happy Fathers Day Poems 2018 intended entirely in your loving dad on Father’s Day.

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      • With these three words,
        “Dear Heavenly Father,”
        I begin my every prayer,
        But the man I see
        While on bended knee
        Is always, my earthly dad. He is the image
        Of the Father divine
        Reflecting the nature of God,
        For his love and care
        And the faith he shared
        Pointed me to my Father above.
      • In the silence that falls on my spirit
        When the clamor of life loudest seems,
        Comes a voice that floats in tremulous notes
        Far over my sea of dreams.
        I remember the dim old vestry,
        And my father kneeling there;
        And the old hymns thrill with the memory still
        Of my father’s voice in prayer.
        I can see the glance of approval
        As my part in the hymn I took;
        I remember the grace of my mother’s face
        And the tenderness of her look;
        And I knew that a gracious memory
        Cast its light on that face so fair,
        As her cheek flushed faintly–O mother, my saint!–
        At my father’s voice in prayer.
        ‘Neath the stress of that marvelous pleading
        All childish dissensions died;
        Each rebellious will sank conquered and still
        In a passion of love and pride.
        Ah, the years have held dear voices,
        And melodies tender and rare;
        But tenderest seems the voice of my dreams–
        My father’s voice in prayer.
      • Dad’s hands were king-size and strong.
        With his hands, he built our home and fixed all the broken things.
        Dad’s hands gave generously, served humbly, and loved mom tenderly, unselfishly, completely, unendingly.
        With his hand, Dad held me when I was small, steadied me when I stumbled, and guided me in the right direction.
        When I needed help, I could always count on Dad’s hands.
        Sometimes Dad’s hands corrected me, disciplined me, shielded me, rescued me.
        Dad’s hands protected me.
        Dad’s hand held mine when he walked me down the aisle. His hand gave me to my forever love, who, not surprisingly, is very much like Dad.
        Dad’s hands were the instruments of his great big, rugged-tender heart.
        Dads hands were a strength.
        Dads hands were love.
        With his hands he praised God.
        And he prayed to the Father with those big hands.
        Dad’s hands. They were like Jesus’ hands to me.
      • Thank you for the laughter,
        For the good times that we share,
        Thanks for always listening,
        For trying to be fair.
        Thank you for your comfort,
        When things are going bad,
        Thank you for the shoulder,
        To cry on when I’m sad.
        This poem’s a reminder that
        All my life through,
        I’ll be thanking heaven
        For a special dad like you.
      • To you, O son of mine, I cannot give
        A vast estate of wide and fertile lands;
        But I can keep for you, the whilst I live,
        Unstained hands.
        I have no blazoned scutcheon that ensures
        Your path to eminence and worldly fame;
        But longer than empty heraldry endures
        A blameless name.
        I have no treasure chest of gold refined,
        No hoarded wealth of clinking, glittering pelf;
        I give to you my hand, and heart, and mind-
        All of myself.
        I can exert no mighty influence
        To make a place for you in men’s affairs;
        But lift to God in secret audience
        Unceasing prayers.



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