Father's Day Poem

[fim]

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

[LorettaYoung]

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

---

Hi Film; Happy Father's Day tomorrow; your sentiments indicate that your mind looks into the deeper things. But, to be honest, nice words, but not a poem. You tried, that was good. I am in a similar boat; there are really good teaching sites that will tell you what you need to do. Good luck, Loretta

[just mercedes]

Happy Fathers Day! It's hard to say something new about love. Your poem started well, with the strong image of hands reaching and clasping through generations. After that you went abstract, and trotted out some rather tired-sounding phrases. I think if you revise this, you should try to bring concrete images into the other stanzas, maybe contrast the faces or eyes, as you did the hands. Thanks for posting this.

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand, lots of adjectives and adverbs throughout your poem
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident I'm not sure what 'the tell' is - maybe this could be made more clear
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy, cliche
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy. a bit unclear as to who is 'as a little boy'

second stanza moves from concrete to abstract, and the rest stay there. I like the image of the two holding hands better than the abstract thoughts which follow.

My memory can’t remember back that far, clunky - I can't remember' or 'my memory doesn't reach' or something like that would be better
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

[billy]

hi fim.

this link shows how to format for spaces and indents

---

i think some of the lines could be more solid if you left some things out and let the reader do some of the work

tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
tenderly grasps the tiny hand,

but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
the tell; an evident sparkle


Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasped the tiny hand,
the tell; an evident sparkle
in the eyes of the elderly man.

please don't see it as a rewrite, it was just easier doing it that way than trying to sat the same thing in the body of the poem proper.
i find it hard to give feedback on this kind of poem as i don't know if it's personal or not, but it's in serious so i'm replying as normal.

i think a stricter meter might also help you cut some of the slackness out of the poem, also check out your rhymes, can they be done better?

why A father and not My father in the last verse

as always thanks for the read.

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
        tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
        in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
        my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
        cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
        though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
        that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
        on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
        in stories in which he is praised.

[fim]

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

---

Hi Film; Happy Father's Day tomorrow; your sentiments indicate that your mind looks into the deeper things. But, to be honest, nice words, but not a poem. You tried, that was good. I am in a similar boat; there are really good teaching sites that will tell you what you need to do. Good luck, Loretta

Loretta,
I am surprised you got away with that critique without a moderator's intervention. Yea, I am a little pissed at your arrogance. I guess your definition of what poetry is the end-all, huh? Read billy's critique below to see how it is done ... properly.
fim

---

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

---

Hi Film; Happy Father's Day tomorrow; your sentiments indicate that your mind looks into the deeper things. But, to be honest, nice words, but not a poem. You tried, that was good. I am in a similar boat; there are really good teaching sites that will tell you what you need to do. Good luck, Loretta

Loretta,
I am surprised you got away with that critique without a moderator's intervention. Yea, I am a little pissed at your arrogance. I guess your definition of what poetry is the end-all, huh? Read billy's critique below to see how it is done ... properly.
fim

---

hi fim.

this link shows how to format for spaces and indents

---

i think some of the lines could be more solid if you left some things out and let the reader do some of the work

tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
tenderly grasps the tiny hand,

but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
the tell; an evident sparkle


Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasped the tiny hand,
the tell; an evident sparkle
in the eyes of the elderly man.

please don't see it as a rewrite, it was just easier doing it that way than trying to sat the same thing in the body of the poem proper.
i find it hard to give feedback on this kind of poem as i don't know if it's personal or not, but it's in serious so i'm replying as normal.

i think a stricter meter might also help you cut some of the slackness out of the poem, also check out your rhymes, can they be done better?

why A father and not My father in the last verse

as always thanks for the read.

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
        tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
        in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
        my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
        cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
        though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
        that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
        on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
        in stories in which he is praised.

billy,
thanks a bunch! your suggestions are terrific. really appreciate you taking the time to give thoughtful critical feedback.
fim

[billy]

Hi Film; Happy Father's Day tomorrow; your sentiments indicate that your mind looks into the deeper things. But, to be honest, nice words, but not a poem. You tried, that was good. I am in a similar boat; there are really good teaching sites that will tell you what you need to do. Good luck, Loretta

to say "not a poem" is not critique or fair feedback. we are not here to tell people to go to a teaching site for poetry. please keeps feedback to the poem /mod

[fim]

Happy Fathers Day! It's hard to say something new about love. Your poem started well, with the strong image of hands reaching and clasping through generations. After that you went abstract, and trotted out some rather tired-sounding phrases. I think if you revise this, you should try to bring concrete images into the other stanzas, maybe contrast the faces or eyes, as you did the hands. Thanks for posting this.

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand, lots of adjectives and adverbs throughout your poem
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident I'm not sure what 'the tell' is - maybe this could be made more clear
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy, cliche
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy. a bit unclear as to who is 'as a little boy'

second stanza moves from concrete to abstract, and the rest stay there. I like the image of the two holding hands better than the abstract thoughts which follow.

My memory can’t remember back that far, clunky - I can't remember' or 'my memory doesn't reach' or something like that would be better
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

just Mercedes,
thanks. yea, hard to write new stuff about love ... sometimes I revolt and use cliché material rather than pick a less-written about subject that affords more virgin poetic territory, something (in my mind) akin to appreciating a Gardenia blossom, even though it looks like the same blossom the year before, and the year before that, and the year before that. But, you are right! And I appreciate the feedback. I was pretty sure I knew what some of the feedback would be when I posted Hands of Time, yet I didn't change it and posted it anyway. I guess my next poem should be titled ... What's Wrong Wif My Head!
Again, thanks, and Cheers!
fim

[crow]

fim,

Just a follow-up to LorettaYoung--what form are you using?

---

fim,

Just a follow-up to LorettaYoung--what form are you using?

I'm asking only as an aide to editing for meter.

[billy]

please guys, if you're going to ask a question such as this; at least give feedback

does the meter work?
what meter do you think it is?
does the poem work?
why does it work? why doesn't it work?

as for the follow up i don't think she mentioned meter and not all poetry uses the thing.
feedback first, question during or at the end. /mod

[crow]

billy--I should've said, and will go ahead and say now,

I want to give this poem a think before I come back for a full edit. In the meantime, it'd be helpful to my remarks, and potentially would help me tailor them to your benefit, if I knew what form you're using. Your response to LorwttaYoung makes me think you have one in mind. That isn't an attempt to set an expectation that you're following a form, but perhaps LorettaYoung's comment was premised on this same inquiry. If you don't have an answer, that's cool, and I'll base my edit on a WYSIWYG take. Much obliged,

crow

---

Also, fwiw, my normal edits are pages long. I was asking sincerely bc it'd help me to know the answer.

---

Proofer's edit:
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled[,]
--consider a comma between old and wrinkled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand[-]in[-]hand[,]
--I believe "hand in hand" is a predicate nominative
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy[.]
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.
--this is borderline as a proofing comment, but "cherished me as a little boy" contains an ambiguity, if not an outright error. Compare "I cherish this Bloody Mary as a soup, but not as a drink."
My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
--"care-giver" is likely best rendered as "caregiver"
--"who is forever imprinted" is wrong. Birds imprint on the first thing they see; the first thing they see isn't imprinted on them.
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
--this is a dangling modifier, or at least here there is a potential read as "the children he raised are a person"
in stories in which he is praised.

Line-by-line:
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
--prefer the active "grasp"
--"tiny toddler" is probably redundant. I think your effort here is to say, "vulnerable child," but it reads as though the toddler has a deficiency of HGH
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.
--the notion of a tell is that there's a lie that's signaled by an idiomotor effect. Here, the literal meaning isn't what you want and demands a rewrite. Specifically, as written, this reads, "he tenderly grasps the toddler's hand, but the sparkle in his eye belies that tenderness, such that I understand his true intention is anything but tender."
--"ever-so" is an idiom used by satirists to signal pretension. I would avoid it for that reason alone, but, additionally, it does no work here. And, continuing on that note,
--"evident" is one of those words that should almost never be used. Very rarely is it anything more than an inert-but-smart-sounding version of "to be." Here, it seems to mean even less than that. That is, if the line were "the sparkle was in his eyes," I would think that his eyes sparkled. But if, as here, the "sparkle was evident," I'm left thinking that the eyes, even though they didn't sparkle upon observation, could be inferred to sparkle based on evidence.
As my father and son walked hand in hand
--"my father" references "the elderly man" intuitively, but not literally. Compare: "The elderly man walks, and then my father jumps." This has been termed "inelegant variation."
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
--this line is diffuse. Contrast: "my heart swelled,".
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.
--"I was certain" does no work here
--"the man who raised me" is another instance of inelegant variation. As an aside, it is not saved by the title, which leaves open, and in fact invites, the idea of many fathers in different relations to the speaker
--"I was certain I was watching" is diffuse. Contrast: "surely, my father cherished me this way when I was a little boy"

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
--it's weird to imagine a child remembering his father's entire life, and this assertion therefore needs revision
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
--weak. By straddling the middle ground between "trying to think" and "can't imagine," you saddle thereafter with the question of whether you provided joy, and the reader has not been given enough facts to support either position, let alone one position over the other
that I can now see in his eyes.
--this references back to "the tell."
--"now" is understood
--"see" is understood
--"can" is understood
--contrast: "in his eyes."

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
--imprinting is a quick event that implies the notion of "forever"
--"forever" is a so-called "atomic flyswatter" in this context, as notions of immortality have not been suggested so far
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.
--the idea that all fathers are definitionally "persons that live in stories told after their deaths" is almost offensive. Many fathers are horrible, and others may be discrete background players who aren't the subjects of manifold stories.

Macro:
I have a difficult time understanding this as a poem. Here's why: there seems to be a lack of poetic device. You have an abcb rhyme scheme that's slanted in both the first and third stanzas, and beyond that, I can't discern a meter or even a rhythmic pattern.

And I wouldn't mind if the thoughts were comprehensible.

Let me explain.

The poem says this, as I understand it: watching my elderly father care for my son provides me with evidence that he also cared for me.

Problematically, when someone says "I know my father loved me because I have indirect evidence," the reader will naturally question the narrator's credibility. That is, when a person says, "watching my father be kind toward a toddler, I know he loved me," it's as if they're saying, "even though I don't think my father loved me, watching him fawn over someone else, I know he really did."

Then, finally, we're told that "father" means "a person that raises children and lives on in recollected narratives." This notion has almost nothing to do with the ideas proposed in stanzas 1 to 3.

What are we left with? A series of well-intended statements that rhyme only by virtue of where the lines are broken, and even then only half the time, and those well-intended statements are rife with internal contradictions, nonseqs, and bare assertions that would border on offensive of they had any emotional heft, but that just kind of make me think, as they are, "oh, here's a dad that likes his dad bc his dad's not physically assaulting a child, even though he wants to." So, maybe LorettaYoung was wrong in saying that this isn't a poem, but not by much.

Fwiw, I have the same problem, too.

[crow]

Also, fingers can't be both stretched and curled.

[bena]

I'm going to have to agree with some of the advice you've been given, and disagree with other points.

This poem does need more concrete images or memories to make it better and less one-size-fits-all broad strokes. Even if it isn't autobiographical, I am sure you have experiences of your own to draw from. And anyone who says this isn't a problem that all poets struggle with is lying to you. I am probably one of the worst to wander off into obscurity.

Stretched and curled: fix by using "then" instead of "and," because I'm pretty sure that's what you meant anyway.

"Tenderly...tiny toddler..." awesome assonance and alteration. Adorable. (see what I did there? snickers)

"But the tell" is a bit awkward. I know what it means, but the sentence construction as is had me misreading it as "but the tale." Not really sure how to fix that one.

S2 L1 has the same kind of clarity issue. I know after reading twice what you mean, but every time a reader gets distracted by construction it pops them out of the poem ever so briefly, instead of keeping them absorbed the way you want them.

S3 L1 isn't crafted as well as it could be. Try reading your poems aloud and check for things of this nature. It is the only way I catch the cumbersome nature of certain lines of my work.

As far as teaching sites go---this is one of two that I would rank as the best on the web (the other one being mine) and if I were you, I'd not go any where!

I think with a bit of revision this would work much better. Happy writing!

bena

[LorettaYoung]

I'm going to have to agree with some of the advice you've been given, and disagree with other points.

This poem does need more concrete images or memories to make it better and less one-size-fits-all broad strokes. Even if it isn't autobiographical, I am sure you have experiences of your own to draw from. And anyone who says this isn't a problem that all poets struggle with is lying to you. I am probably one of the worst to wander off into obscurity.

Stretched and curled: fix by using "then" instead of "and," because I'm pretty sure that's what you meant anyway.

"Tenderly...tiny toddler..." awesome assonance and alteration. Adorable. (see what I did there? snickers)

"But the tell" is a bit awkward. I know what it means, but the sentence construction as is had me misreading it as "but the tale." Not really sure how to fix that one.

S2 L1 has the same kind of clarity issue. I know after reading twice what you mean, but every time a reader gets distracted by construction it pops them out of the poem ever so briefly, instead of keeping them absorbed the way you want them.

S3 L1 isn't crafted as well as it could be. Try reading your poems aloud and check for things of this nature. It is the only way I catch the cumbersome nature of certain lines of my work.

As far as teaching sites go---this is one of two that I would rank as the best on the web (the other one being mine) and if I were you, I'd not go any where!

I think with a bit of revision this would work much better. Happy writing!

bena

---

Hi Fim: I am sorry I phrased my critique as I did; as I mention there I'm in a similar boat; feeling that a lot of my work may not be poems.
As I said I very much appreciated the sentiments; just did not understand the way it is put together; but again, as I said and say, and believe, I am not a poet to judge that kind of way. Still, happy Father's day. Best Loretta

[fim]

hi fim.

this link shows how to format for spaces and indents

---

i think some of the lines could be more solid if you left some things out and let the reader do some of the work

tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
tenderly grasps the tiny hand,

but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
the tell; an evident sparkle


Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasped the tiny hand,
the tell; an evident sparkle
in the eyes of the elderly man.

please don't see it as a rewrite, it was just easier doing it that way than trying to sat the same thing in the body of the poem proper.
i find it hard to give feedback on this kind of poem as i don't know if it's personal or not, but it's in serious so i'm replying as normal.

i think a stricter meter might also help you cut some of the slackness out of the poem, also check out your rhymes, can they be done better?

why A father and not My father in the last verse

as always thanks for the read.

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
        tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
        in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
        my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
        cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
        though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
        that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
        on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
        in stories in which he is praised.

Once again, thank you billie. I really appreciate your feedback, it always helps me grow as a poet.

---

I'm going to have to agree with some of the advice you've been given, and disagree with other points.

This poem does need more concrete images or memories to make it better and less one-size-fits-all broad strokes. Even if it isn't autobiographical, I am sure you have experiences of your own to draw from. And anyone who says this isn't a problem that all poets struggle with is lying to you. I am probably one of the worst to wander off into obscurity.

Stretched and curled: fix by using "then" instead of "and," because I'm pretty sure that's what you meant anyway.

"Tenderly...tiny toddler..." awesome assonance and alteration. Adorable. (see what I did there? snickers)

"But the tell" is a bit awkward. I know what it means, but the sentence construction as is had me misreading it as "but the tale." Not really sure how to fix that one.

S2 L1 has the same kind of clarity issue. I know after reading twice what you mean, but every time a reader gets distracted by construction it pops them out of the poem ever so briefly, instead of keeping them absorbed the way you want them.

S3 L1 isn't crafted as well as it could be. Try reading your poems aloud and check for things of this nature. It is the only way I catch the cumbersome nature of certain lines of my work.

As far as teaching sites go---this is one of two that I would rank as the best on the web (the other one being mine) and if I were you, I'd not go any where!

I think with a bit of revision this would work much better. Happy writing!

bena

thanks bena,
I appreciate your feedback.

---

billy--I should've said, and will go ahead and say now,

I want to give this poem a think before I come back for a full edit. In the meantime, it'd be helpful to my remarks, and potentially would help me tailor them to your benefit, if I knew what form you're using. Your response to LorwttaYoung makes me think you have one in mind. That isn't an attempt to set an expectation that you're following a form, but perhaps LorettaYoung's comment was premised on this same inquiry. If you don't have an answer, that's cool, and I'll base my edit on a WYSIWYG take. Much obliged,

crow

---

Also, fwiw, my normal edits are pages long. I was asking sincerely bc it'd help me to know the answer.

---

Proofer's edit:
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled[,]
--consider a comma between old and wrinkled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand[-]in[-]hand[,]
--I believe "hand in hand" is a predicate nominative
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy[.]
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.
--this is borderline as a proofing comment, but "cherished me as a little boy" contains an ambiguity, if not an outright error. Compare "I cherish this Bloody Mary as a soup, but not as a drink."
My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
--"care-giver" is likely best rendered as "caregiver"
--"who is forever imprinted" is wrong. Birds imprint on the first thing they see; the first thing they see isn't imprinted on them.
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
--this is a dangling modifier, or at least here there is a potential read as "the children he raised are a person"
in stories in which he is praised.

Line-by-line:
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
--prefer the active "grasp"
--"tiny toddler" is probably redundant. I think your effort here is to say, "vulnerable child," but it reads as though the toddler has a deficiency of HGH
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.
--the notion of a tell is that there's a lie that's signaled by an idiomotor effect. Here, the literal meaning isn't what you want and demands a rewrite. Specifically, as written, this reads, "he tenderly grasps the toddler's hand, but the sparkle in his eye belies that tenderness, such that I understand his true intention is anything but tender."
--"ever-so" is an idiom used by satirists to signal pretension. I would avoid it for that reason alone, but, additionally, it does no work here. And, continuing on that note,
--"evident" is one of those words that should almost never be used. Very rarely is it anything more than an inert-but-smart-sounding version of "to be." Here, it seems to mean even less than that. That is, if the line were "the sparkle was in his eyes," I would think that his eyes sparkled. But if, as here, the "sparkle was evident," I'm left thinking that the eyes, even though they didn't sparkle upon observation, could be inferred to sparkle based on evidence.
As my father and son walked hand in hand
--"my father" references "the elderly man" intuitively, but not literally. Compare: "The elderly man walks, and then my father jumps." This has been termed "inelegant variation."
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
--this line is diffuse. Contrast: "my heart swelled,".
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.
--"I was certain" does no work here
--"the man who raised me" is another instance of inelegant variation. As an aside, it is not saved by the title, which leaves open, and in fact invites, the idea of many fathers in different relations to the speaker
--"I was certain I was watching" is diffuse. Contrast: "surely, my father cherished me this way when I was a little boy"

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
--it's weird to imagine a child remembering his father's entire life, and this assertion therefore needs revision
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
--weak. By straddling the middle ground between "trying to think" and "can't imagine," you saddle thereafter with the question of whether you provided joy, and the reader has not been given enough facts to support either position, let alone one position over the other
that I can now see in his eyes.
--this references back to "the tell."
--"now" is understood
--"see" is understood
--"can" is understood
--contrast: "in his eyes."

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
--imprinting is a quick event that implies the notion of "forever"
--"forever" is a so-called "atomic flyswatter" in this context, as notions of immortality have not been suggested so far
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.
--the idea that all fathers are definitionally "persons that live in stories told after their deaths" is almost offensive. Many fathers are horrible, and others may be discrete background players who aren't the subjects of manifold stories.

Macro:
I have a difficult time understanding this as a poem. Here's why: there seems to be a lack of poetic device. You have an abcb rhyme scheme that's slanted in both the first and third stanzas, and beyond that, I can't discern a meter or even a rhythmic pattern.

And I wouldn't mind if the thoughts were comprehensible.

Let me explain.

The poem says this, as I understand it: watching my elderly father care for my son provides me with evidence that he also cared for me.

Problematically, when someone says "I know my father loved me because I have indirect evidence," the reader will naturally question the narrator's credibility. That is, when a person says, "watching my father be kind toward a toddler, I know he loved me," it's as if they're saying, "even though I don't think my father loved me, watching him fawn over someone else, I know he really did."

Then, finally, we're told that "father" means "a person that raises children and lives on in recollected narratives." This notion has almost nothing to do with the ideas proposed in stanzas 1 to 3.

What are we left with? A series of well-intended statements that rhyme only by virtue of where the lines are broken, and even then only half the time, and those well-intended statements are rife with internal contradictions, nonseqs, and bare assertions that would border on offensive of they had any emotional heft, but that just kind of make me think, as they are, "oh, here's a dad that likes his dad bc his dad's not physically assaulting a child, even though he wants to." So, maybe LorettaYoung was wrong in saying that this isn't a poem, but not by much.

Fwiw, I have the same problem, too.

Crow,
I am pretty sure we don't share the same problem[s].
fim

[crow]

fim,

You might've seen me say elsewhere that I only edit poems I like. So let me balance the deluge above with my deeper sentiments.

This is already a good poem, but it's got a great poem in it that's waiting to be released. The emotions you express are squarely put. The technicals are very fixable. The sincerity registers effectively.

What's needed is what my huge-long edit suggests. Cut out and revise everything that's trite, irrelevant, misleading, fluffy, or artificial.

I don't know if this will hit you as a threat or a bargain, but I'll edit every draft you put up all the best,
crow

[fim]

fim,

You might've seen me say elsewhere that I only edit poems I like. So let me balance the deluge above with my deeper sentiments.

This is already a good poem, but it's got a great poem in it that's waiting to be released. The emotions you express are squarely put. The technicals are very fixable. The sincerity registers effectively.

What's needed is what my huge-long edit suggests. Cut out and revise everything that's trite, irrelevant, misleading, fluffy, or artificial.

I don't know if this will hit you as a threat or a bargain, but I'll edit every draft you put up all the best,
crow

Crow,
thanks, ... and I might take you up on the offer to edit any draft I put up since, sometimes long poems get ignored on PigPen (for justifiable reason ... people just don't have the time) and I have one I am itching to get someone who knows about poetry to critique. Anyway, it is titled the Trojan Horse, it is like most of my poems, about feelings and circumstances I encounter in life. It lacks obscurity and is long and contains some (what I consider to be necessary) redundancy. But I think it has redeeming qualities.
Cheers,
fim

[Forever*young]

Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.

A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.

Fim,

I believe you're on your way to writing a beautiful and touching poem! Actually, it already is a beautiful and touching poem, but it can be improved upon--as most things in life. We can never improve too much Anyway, there a few things I would consider perhaps changing or leaving out altogether, especially if you want it to have a better rhythm and flow or want it to make more sense. Below I tweaked it a little to maybe give you some ideas.

Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
And tenderly grasped the toddler's hand.
An ever-so-evident sparkle gleamed
deep in the eyes of the elderly man.

As my father and son walked hand in hand
I felt my heart overflow with joy,
I was certain I watched how he who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.

My memory can’t reach back that far,
But I know he loved me all through his life,
I’d like to think I brought him the joy
that I now can see in his eyes.

Fathers are care-givers forever imprinted
on the hearts of the children they raise,
Who live beyond the number of their years
in the stories in which they are praised.

Perhaps you should also consider adding more stanzas to this poem. Anyway, it's a wonderful start!