Hands of a Man

My father always judged a man by how firm a handshake he had

What was the grip like?

Were the palms calloused and tough?

My father's were.

 

His hands had created gardens that feed all of us for years

His hands had made decks and porches and came home cut

From his papermill job for over twenty-five years

His hands rarely spanked us kids but when they did.....

 

When his hands touched those of my husband's

He frowned

A Chicago boy with soft hands...

They weren't soft, Dad's were too hard to feel anymore

 

Now my dad and my husband work side by side and I hold my two favorite men's hands

Both raveaged by the Louisiana weather

Both wonderful strong hands that were united by one little girl

Their hands would have never met had it not been for me

 

My daughter's hands
With her chubby grasp she clenches the hearts
of all who love her.
Not wanting to let go of my apron strings
her soft hands merge with the
calloused hands of men.

 

In her light, those men both think that

Soft hands are nothing to frown about anymore...

$ 

 

Author's Note

Thanks for the idea to rearrange my words at the end

Reviews

[Lady V]

I know one thing........... There is nothing like the touch of a child. Their hugs bring joy and they look up to us when they hold our hand. I was never close with my father but my mother instilled the same image in me. That you work to support more than you do to survive. i love this poem.

Live, Love and Learn

Lady V

[Emily B]

oh, this is lovely . . . exactly what I had in mind when I started the contest. Thanks so much for sharing it!

[Jet Lag]

great theme.

here:
~~Both raveaged by the Louisiana weather
i think you mean ravaged.

[Sam]

This is a nice piece, there is always that pressure to squeeze on the hand shake, strength equals masculinity etc.

I sense this more about interwoven relationships than hands per se. It left me thinking anyway.

[~angelalala~]

i love this poem. the imagery is beautiful. i love the last stanzas about your daughter and the lines "her soft hands merge with the calloused hands of men." this creates a strong & powerful description of these hard calloused hands of men emerging with a child's silky soft one. beautiful.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

This is so endearing... Our hands do come in different shapes and sizes and even different levels of firmness and tenderness... in the end what matters is what you do with them and how you use them to show your love with a simple touch on the cheek or pat on the back... excellent write...

Ps. also such a beautiful tribute to your two favorite men.

[WindSinger]

It has an interesting angle of how people view gender and each other. Also very thought provoking. Find a way to make the poem more fluid in it's transition from your dad, to your husband and then to your daughter. Try to eliminate some of the words and rearrange them.

EXAMPLE:
Hands,

Now I hold my baby's hands and her chubby grasp

Clenchs my heart and those of our favorite men

Her hands won't let go of my apron strings

But most of all her soft hands are in those men's rough hands

try perhaps:

My daughter's hands
With her chubby grasp she clenches the hearts
of all who love her.
Not wanting to let go of my apron strings
her soft hands merge with the
calloused hands of men.

[Juan]

Well I've never given much thought about hands in that light, what a wonderful poem you've written, Thanks for sharing.

[!!..Love..!!]

This is very thoughtful dear, I mean I was just so still after reading it. For me, it is one of your best so far. Lovely!

[Rick Puetter]

Dear Lea,

A wonderful poem of reflection on your father, very warm and heart-felt. And I agree, an introductory handshake is very telling. Well done.

Best regards,

Rick