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 such misty beauty, so alive – soft and clear blue
Stirring the warmth in her soul, skin old and crinkling
In her life, she still believed – in giving even when she grieved
Her days were filled with precious dreams, uplifting others
Ripping through the darkest storms with a tenderness who relieved
Restoring feelings, lives, impressing spirits, the best of mothers
In her smile, she told of a peace – joy so amazing
Her kindness cured so many ills, blessing others with love
Love so pure, so gentle and giving – always praising
Pouring out faith in prayers sent to God above
In her eighties, she still glowed like a heart who knows
Beyond the trees, beyond the hills, lives a spirit so free
Because He sent His Son to this earth, and the love flows
Blessing each tear, each moment, each breathe – He is the key…
In her I can see the most precious parts of grace
The beautiful that is living in the story of love’s praise
The wonder of a life healed by God’s Son’s embrace,
The music that softly plays as that old hope will quietly amaze!
Copyright ©
Regina Mcintosh
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