Before dawn,
His silhouette against the horizon,
A quiet strength that shapes my world.

His hands, calloused yet gentle,
Build dreams from bricks and mortar,
His love a foundation, steadfast and true.

He fills the night air, with orals of generations.
Each tale a lesson, each word a guide.

His laughter, a thunderous melody, but
A balm for weary hearts.

In his eyes spark wisdom,
Years of battles fought and won,
He is benefaction of courage,
And hope.

Papa, the anchor in life's storm,
His presence a fortress,
Where fears dissolve,
Like shea butter in the West African sun.

Through fields of golden maize,
We walk side by side,
His stride a map of determination.

He teaches with patience,
The art of living fully,
He sees each moment as a gift,
And each challenge a chance.

Even in silence, his love speaks,
A language of support and belief,
His embrace is a refuge.

My Papa, my stronghold,
In your strength,
I find mine,
In your love,
I find home,
Always.

...............................[AFRO PRIDE]........................