Mother's hands
A Mother's hands tenderly wiping a tear
Or protecting from anything causing fear
Loving hands depended on to do so much
A pat on the back, a comforting touch
Holding a baby, helping a child
Guiding a teen who begins to run wild
Hands that so often reached out to hold
Somehow knowing, just when to let go.
Now moving more slowly, as time takes its toll
These hands, full of love, are more precious than gold.
© Sharon Langan
|Poetry Index|Home|
Guest Book
|E-Mail|
|
|
|
|