Gentle Poems

With A Gentle Hand - Mystic

With a gentle hand,
You balance the world while its feet are still untried…
little fingers twist like seashells
around the promise of tomorrow.

Love is gentle in this place;
it hides within a cradle song,
a steady thrum of trust
leaning into your heart.

Every touch becomes a promise
each embrace a refuge -
showing the fragile ones
that gentleness carries power.

When the lullabies grow

With a Gentle Hand-Mystic

There could never be a more gentle hand
than that of a mother and her loving touch.
The emotional bond takes place, unplanned
by the one who loves her child so much.

Even months before her babe is due to be born,
her shielding hands can often be found
on her tummy, protecting the child she's sworn
to keep healthy inside of

With a Gentle Hand - Mystic

a Trimeric poem

With gentleness she makes no demands,
she gives her request with angelic serenity,
born with magic in her voice 
she knows she will not be denied.

She gives her request with angelic serenity 
and trilling sensuality in her eyes,
does she realize or is she innocent?

Born with magic in her voice,
you really have no choice
but to give

With a Gentle Hand - Mystic

With a gentle hand, Father lead
Our mass of inexperience—
Humbled, childish human in need.
With a gentle hand, Father lead
Along gravel tracks, who's pitied 
Our paucity injurious.
With a gentle hand, Father lead 
Our mass of inexperience.

Best of both worlds

you're my yin and yang
you're strong when you need to be
you're gentle when it counts



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025

With a Gentle Hand-Mystic

with a gentle hand, Wynter,
brush your curls,
and don’t forget—
knot your braids tight
so the wind don’t snatch your shine.

with a gentle hand,
hold the butterfly—
be soft with the small things.
but don’t forget,
even wings push back
when the storm comes blowing.

with a gentle hand,
share your candy, your jokes, your light.
but keep one fist closed,
‘cause not everybody claps for you—
some

With A Gentle Hand - Mystic

With a gentle hand, He held mine,  
Guiding me through the night,  
Assuring me that I would find the light,  
A perpetual light that pierces through burgeoning darkness.  

We journeyed through the meadow,  
With a gentle hand, He held mine,  
Dispersing the gnawing shadows,  
Telling me to awaken

WITH A GENTLE HAND-Mystic

WITH A GENTLE HAND (MYSTIC) 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No stained glass, just a quiet sanctuary~
     her hands, a cathedral of skin and bones. 

Eyes closed, fingers laced together, a fragile turret~
    her hands pointing towards heaven.

With her gentle hands, she silently prays~
     a silent language spoken to

With A Gentle Hand

So delicate she is... her skin as soft as a silkworm 
   That nose so small... that of a tiny two-hole button 
The hair- she wears, is as fine as a spider's web 
   Her vocabulary is but one word..."Ba-ba" - bottle
 ... What I hear is- "Da-da!   

With A Gentle Hand MYSTIC

God’s hands are softer than the snowflake.
His tender touch feels like falling dew,
blown by a gentle breeze~
Soothing as a whisper on the ear,
a feather-stroke that lulls us to sleep
as babies.

As it was in our cots,
His tender touch still cares—
a guiding light for our feet
against the serpent’s bite.
And when troubles torment,
He calms us with His soothing

With a Gentle Hand - Mystic

With a gentle hand I will comfort you
A promise I’ll keep till my life is through
Baby as you grow
I will love you so
The world is yours, so much to pursue.

With a gentle hand Mystic

                              I take 
                      

With A Gentle Hand, Mystic

In her eighties, she still groomed – clipping nails
Her hands, soft and warm to the touch, tender as the rose
Petals weeping as they melt the summer dew who trails
Along the glistening lights, softly playing as grace flows

In her final years, she still loved – heartfelt and true
Her eyes glittering with azure lights, healing hearts, twinkling
With

With A Gentle Hand Mystic

With a gentle hand He guides me
To come to a place of rest
There His presence fills me with peace
Prepares me to stand a test  

As the early bird sings a song
And the cool of night chills 
He guides my thoughts to things above
Yet slowly day loses its still 

The brilliant sun rises higher
Sunbeams sift

MY FATHER'S GENTLE HANDS

MY FATHER'S GENTLE HANDS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember my father’s hands as a plumber’s hands—fiercely strong, calloused, rough, knuckle-battered, and dirty after a long-day’s work. Those hands shoveled; unclogged drains and toilets; repaired leaks; and installed pipes, commodes, and bathtubs. Those hands provided. 

I remember my father’s hands as a fisherman’s hands—perfectly patient, tenacious, self-confident, and unwavering as

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