My Dad = My Nonpareil Gift

Holding my hands since my birth, 

He is my treasured torpedo on the earth. 

He is a person who is solicitous and kind, 

To my residual requisite who is never blind. 

He is my stupendous shadow, 

Who effectively evacuate dolour from my meadow. 

He is like my brawny buckler, 

Who protects me from stringent scolding like a juggler. 

He is like a proficient potter, 

Who knows how to give a ameliorate appearance to his daughter. 

My dad's and my canorous connection is so divine, 

Which will never come to an end like a limitless line. 

A daughter don't need a superman or a super hero, 

Because her dad is her bona-fide blue-eyed hero. 

I always feast my eyes on him as my guide, 

He is my nonpareil gift in this systole and diastole ride.