DADDY'S BOOTS

DADDY'S BOOTS

When I was but a wee lass
And one of many kids
I 'd follow dad around;

While he did his chores
Outdoors rain or shine
Or often in the barn.

It seemed he never stopped
It was in his blood
Or perhaps in his roots;

Animals and gardening
Always working hard for us
In his rubber boots.

Now he's gone to Heaven
And I'm proud to say
I have the same roots;

I also have my feet
Firmly planted
In daddy's old boots.

I wear them in wet grass
Or to wash my car
And always in the woods;

They are warmly lined
Paint stained but
Oh, they feel so good!

I know that I can never fill
His boots or shoes
They're just a bit too loose;

But I am so proud
Each time I pull them on
And walk in daddy's boots.

How I love my daddy's boots!