Daddy's Heart
It was in a bottom drawer at Gramma's place,
With pictures of a soldier, I didn't know the face.
There was a musty old flag, it made me sneeze,
It was never put outside to flap in the breeze.
With warm little hands I would tightly hold,
A treasured medal of mostly purple and gold.
Then holding Daddy's heart next to my own,
I'd wonder how he got lost so far from home.
-- Brenda Kightlinger --
