You can’t have the authority of an angel
Yet you could be my sight
I behaved to my daughter’s espousal
She lived on with a diligent fight.
Some said “she’s beautiful”
But beauty denied her face
She is one of that forel
Which carries a manuscript’s place.
She was a girly sturdy
My tongue takes her name
She was the best of mine
As I withered and gone tame.
She rose early and tight
With every second her might
She played with my hands
Tied me to her friendship bands.
She well served in the kitchen
Also hanged in the society’s prison
She made her father proud
With her accompanied groud.
One day she confessed
That she wanted her father dressed
When I asked for the occasion
She named herself without maiden.
I was lost to her sayings
Looking at her gorgeous earrings
She was as glamorous,
As she was first in my bearings.
2025, © Jaskaran Singh, Coffee Notes Blog
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Comments
This poem carries a raw, tender beauty that shines through every stanza. 🌸
The emotions of a father — pride, love, nostalgia, and even helplessness — are woven so naturally into the verses that the reader cannot help but feel the depth of the bond. What makes it striking is the unpolished honesty: it doesn’t aim for ornamentation, yet it glows with sincerity. Lines like “She played with my hands / Tied me to her friendship bands” capture innocence and intimacy in a way that feels universal.
Author
Thanks for your compliments sir. 🙂🙂