My Mother's Hands

Mother’s hands were calloused

The nails cut short

The veins protruding

Like branches beneath a blanket of sun darkened skin.

 

Smooth as the stones

Which are washed by the waves

Beaten against shores of work

For countless years, roughened till smooth.

 

Their gentility, magnificent

Each finger a graceful, elegant wand

Stroking the head of a weeping child

Till sobs silenced and tears were vanquished.

 

The hands that held

The sacred bond of family together

Clutching tightly, even when strained

That will not release until death.

 

And even then celestially link

The chain she herself created.

 

Reviews

[Elaenor Aisling]

Thanks everyone :)

[Patricia B. Hepler]

..'The chain she herself created.' I was immersed in your poem & was remembering my mother's hands. Yes, mothers are the link between the youngest and the eldest of each family~ A wonderful work~ pat

[Antonio Valentino]

so very endearing.. what is more meaningful then love of family..

celestiallly linked.. yes indeed

:)

[None]

Perfect in too many ways. Amazing. The words, the images, the lyrical, dream quality of the mood. Ah. This is so beautiful. Amazing work. Love this.

[M.E.Lyle]

What a wonderful tribute to any mother who has suffered the hardships and joys of raising a family. You have such a wonderfully pleasing style of writing. It's like a warm cup of chocolate on a frosty autumn morning.

[kmartell]

Hands are so expressive. This poem gives us the feeling for what this means, especially touching was the fact that it is yr mother.

[...]

. elegance, eloquence, warmth, beauty, grace, poetry ... are the words that come to my mind after reading this exquisite piece of poetry ... i have no doubt in my mind that she is as lovely and as spectacular as you are ... overwhelming work ...

[_mal]

Beautiful work