Hands

Years of scrubbing and 
Milking cows and labor
Wrinkled hard worked hands 
At night prayed for savior
Changing diapers 
Cooking food
Heart always 
Thoughts of good
A mothers hands
Well worn scrubbed
Days of labor
No crown she dubbed 
To children mom
Was number one
From dawn till dusk
All chores were done
Papa worked but
Not as hard
Mommy worked from
Dawn till dark
Cold sick cries out
Mom is there
Hugs and kisses
Have no fear
Father sleeps to
Get up to work
Mom is tired
No sleep for her
Worn out hands
A mothers curse
Work never ends 
A lovely verse
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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