A Tale to Tell

Team Renfield

Hands
Long and thin
Short and squat
Able to hold and grasp

Gently touch with love
Rudely slap in hate
Build a work of beauty
Or tear it down

Young and thin
Things of delicate beauty
Old and knarled
The stories they tell

Drying a child's tear filled eyes
Change a smelly diaper
Braiding long and silky hair
Doctoring a bloody knee

Gently they caress
Loving touches speak much
Softly telling more then words say
Taking the worlds cares away

Until at last they lay in rest
Blue veined and fragile
Old and knarled
Crossed at last in final rest

Yet when I see
Hands such as these
Reflect their tender caress
And read their memories

I look at my own
And see with a smile
Thinning skin and twisting bones
Fleeting beauty fades

But oh the stories
Laying in those lines
Fading into blue
Telling of days they once knew

Author's Note

prompt:
Have you seen your hands recently, I mean really looked at them? A mere ten digits that have the ability to shape things beyond recognition. Wouldn't it be nice not to have that responsibility anymore?

Well, there you go, an idea, a thought seed. Can you use it?

Reviews

[Closedown]

I'm still looking at my hands. Renfieldians unite!

[Marie Harrison]

Oh, I love this write. You are so right! I remember seeing my Grandmother's hands as she laid in her casket. I had a flood of memories flood through my head of all the things I saw her do with those beautiful hands.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Love the story in this poem!