DADDY, WHAT’S THAT?
BY CAROLYN KEENE

DADDY, what’s that in your hand?
Please, don’t whip your little man
And with my golden hair all curled
could you spank your little girl?

CHILDREN, this is a correction rod
Ordained for use by the Word of God
To guide you both along life’s way
In hopes that you will never stray.
To show my love, this rod I’ll use
But do not fear, I’ll not abuse.

DADDY, why must you keep us so?
Why can’t you just let us go
And do the things that others do?
Why do we have to answer to you?

CHILDREN, I was once your age
And played my part upon life’s stage
Neither could I understand
Why Daddy should be in command
But as years went by and older I grew
Then more and more it seemed he knew.

DADDY, what’s that in your hair?
A streak of gray? Who put it there?
Who painted those wrinkles on your face?
What caused you to slow your pace?

CHILDREN, I have now grown old
But my love for you has not gone cold
No one’s to blame for the changes you see
Life’s simply taken its toll on me
Because God’s wisdom I’ve often sought
Throughout the years much joy you’ve brought.

CHILDREN, what’s that in your hand?
Those precious ones, they are so grand.
And as they sit upon my knee
What is it you would ask of me?

DADDY, it is not that wealth untold
You’d leave to those little ones you hold,
But rather that for us you’d pray
For strength to guide us every day
That when we’re your age, in their eyes,
We might appear just half as wise.

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