My Mother's Hands
As a poet it’s a challenge to put down in words
What a Mother’s hands mean to a child
But as an adult, if memory serves
I remember them being loving, gentle, caring and mild
My Mother’s Hands
Truly a gift from Heaven above,
A symbol of God’s everlasting love.
The first to hold me when I was born,
A symbol of love’s band that can never be torn.
My Mother’s Hands
An extension of the Angel’s hands on earth,
Like gems they are precious and priceless in worth.
Made me feel safe when I was a baby,
Made me feel secure with the love that they gave me.
My Mother’s Hands
Held my hand when I was a little child,
Always gentle and caring like her smile.
Helped to create my own beautiful world,
Nurtured me as the years unfurled.
My Mother’s Hands
Conveyed with subtlety silent words,
That I as her child only heard.
Pointed me in the right direction,
Always did so with love and affection.
My Mother’s Hands
Always picked me up when I fell down,
Always would keep me safe and sound.
Would gently wipe away my tears,
Would boldly chase away my fears.
My Mother’s Hands
Supported all of my childhood dreams,
Thwarted all of my childish schemes.
Always there to direct me,
Always there to correct me.
My Mother’s Hands
Gave me strength when I was weak,
Helped me climb the mountain’s peak.
Patted me on the back when we would embrace,
Lovingly and gently caressed my face.
My Mother’s Hands
Held my hand when I took my first step,
Tucked me into bed when I slept.
Held my heart which she always carried,
Shared it with the person I married.
My Mother’s Hands
Always tended her garden with care,
Wonderful things she would grow there.
It would always turn out incredible,
Beautiful flowers and delicious vegetables.
My Mother’s Hands
Always stitching and sewing,
Creating quilts and clothing.
Great at painting her own way,
Beautiful scenes like Frenchmen’s bay
My Mother’s Hands
Gave me total encouragement,
Filled up my soul with nourishment.
Always there to lift up my heart,
In my mind when we were apart.
My Mother’s Hands
Pushed me on to try new things,
Whether losing or winning.
Gently pushing me on again,
Knowing I would succeed in the end.
My Mother’s Hands
Taught me with amazing wisdom,
That came from God where everything came from.
Molded me into the person I’ve become,
From the clay created by God’s kingdom.
My Mother’s Hands
Tended to me when I was sick,
Always made me feel better quick.
Changed my diapers whenever I went,
And the smell was not a Yankee candle scent!
My Mother’s Hands
Would pray for me every night,
Helped me tell what’s wrong from what’s right.
Fed me and clothed me every day,
Nurtured my dreams in every way.
My Mother’s Hands
In my mind I’ll hold them always,
I’ll hold on to them until the end of my days.
And when I finally get to Heaven,
I will hold my Mother’s hands again.
My Mother’s Hands
Were of priceless worth,
They did God’s work here on earth.
But God had need of my Mother’s hands,
To help the Angels with his plans.
He called her home one summer’s day,
But still now and again I feel sad and say,
I wish I could just one more time,
Hold my Mother’s hands in mine.
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