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My Grandmothers Hands

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Below is the poem entitled My Grandmothers Hands which was written by poet Mark Leeper. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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My Grandmothers Hands

My Grandmothers Hands

Grandmother Pearl, the Ozark mountain girl, picking flowers and singing down the valley, in the sun and the rain. Her hands, older than her age, they were, already a woman’s touch. You were such a little girl, when your hands took on the cares of this world, the mountains ringing with the silent sound of your toil. The clap of prayerful thunder it was, hands that never stopped, and never asked why, why me? The rough hands, full of so much tender love, folded in devotion, and then after, always in motion, sweeping a wooden floor, or knocking at heaven’s door, stretched out hands of service through all infinity, beckons me onward to all eternity.

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  1. Date: 5/23/2012 10:29:00 AM
    Beautiful and loveing grandmother deserve this wonderful poem.Thank you Mark for I got to meet her. - oxox love Anne-Lise

  1. Date: 5/10/2012 10:50:00 AM
    Such a beautiful poem to read.Thanks for sharing.