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My Mother's Hands

My mother's hands Pure and dear Caring spheres that teach the essence of life Her strong palms shine brightly As they feed the fruits of God As they sing the dreams of tomorrow As they teach the skies of love My mother's hands Loving and caring A bountiful harvest that never dries Always green, always serene Forever a gift, a blessing of breath And as i look at my own hands And my children's hands And my children children's hands I see a continuation of the gift

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Shattered Sighs