These Hands

These hands have known the joys of a boy’s youthful play Also known the farm work that was required each and every day These hands pulled the weeds from the fields where we toiled Laboring under a blazing sun; leaving these hands rough and soiled These hands held the hand of my lady as I asked her to share my life Held her by my side the day she became my wife These hands reveal the ravages; of weather’s savage breathe Held a knife in the flowing blood; in a beasts ultimate death Hands that held many a hammer; swung too hard; swung too long Time has taken its toll on these old hands; hands that once were so strong These hands proudly rocked the cradle as I watched my babies sleep Held them closely to my chest to calm some hurt causing them to weep These hands gently pushed a child’s swing; as my children laughed aloud Held a daughter's hand walking down the aisle, made her father proud These hands have known the heat of a sculptor’s flaming torch Held brush and pallet while painting out upon the porch Cradled my pen as I spread the ink in the poetry that I write Ink that is sometimes spread well into the night