My Mother's Hands

As a poet it’s a challenge to put down in words What a Mother’s hands mean to a child But as an adult, if memory serves I remember them being loving, gentle, caring and mild My Mother’s Hands Truly a gift from Heaven above, A symbol of God’s everlasting love. The first to hold me when I was born, A symbol of love’s band that can never be torn. My Mother’s Hands An extension of the Angel’s hands on earth, Like gems they are precious and priceless in worth. Made me feel safe when I was a baby, Made me feel secure with the love that they gave me. My Mother’s Hands Held my hand when I was a little child, Always gentle and caring like her smile. Helped to create my own beautiful world, Nurtured me as the years unfurled. My Mother’s Hands Conveyed with subtlety silent words, That I as her child only heard. Pointed me in the right direction, Always did so with love and affection. My Mother’s Hands Always picked me up when I fell down, Always would keep me safe and sound. Would gently wipe away my tears, Would boldly chase away my fears. My Mother’s Hands Supported all of my childhood dreams, Thwarted all of my childish schemes. Always there to direct me, Always there to correct me. My Mother’s Hands Gave me strength when I was weak, Helped me climb the mountain’s peak. Patted me on the back when we would embrace, Lovingly and gently caressed my face. My Mother’s Hands Held my hand when I took my first step, Tucked me into bed when I slept. Held my heart which she always carried, Shared it with the person I married. My Mother’s Hands Always tended her garden with care, Wonderful things she would grow there. It would always turn out incredible, Beautiful flowers and delicious vegetables. My Mother’s Hands Always stitching and sewing, Creating quilts and clothing. Great at painting her own way, Beautiful scenes like Frenchmen’s bay My Mother’s Hands Gave me total encouragement, Filled up my soul with nourishment. Always there to lift up my heart, In my mind when we were apart. My Mother’s Hands Pushed me on to try new things, Whether losing or winning. Gently pushing me on again, Knowing I would succeed in the end. My Mother’s Hands Taught me with amazing wisdom, That came from God where everything came from. Molded me into the person I’ve become, From the clay created by God’s kingdom. My Mother’s Hands Tended to me when I was sick, Always made me feel better quick. Changed my diapers whenever I went, And the smell was not a Yankee candle scent! My Mother’s Hands Would pray for me every night, Helped me tell what’s wrong from what’s right. Fed me and clothed me every day, Nurtured my dreams in every way. My Mother’s Hands In my mind I’ll hold them always, I’ll hold on to them until the end of my days. And when I finally get to Heaven, I will hold my Mother’s hands again. My Mother’s Hands Were of priceless worth, They did God’s work here on earth. But God had need of my Mother’s hands, To help the Angels with his plans. He called her home one summer’s day, But still now and again I feel sad and say, I wish I could just one more time, Hold my Mother’s hands in mine.