My Grandma's hands
so thin and frail
imagine the stories
each one could tell.
Remembering back
when she was a child
discovering the feel
of things in the wild.
It might of been flower
or a fuzzy Caterpillar
as she learned quickly
some needn't be touched.
Like buzzing bees
no matter how tempting
or poison ivy
never forgot that itch!
As she grew older,
she learned there was more
her hands could do
like hold a needle and sew.
She learned to wash clothes
sometimes leaving blisters
she could soon even cook
making jars of jam from fruit.
So many things
kept her hands very busy
like the day she was wed
and she held her firstborn.
Time's come and gone
her hands show their wear
standing the test of time
as I hold them now with care.
When Grandma passed
clinging close to her heart
her bible beneath her hands
as God came to take her home.
A contest entry
- Our Hands by kareneisenlord.
1750 points, ended November 13, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Reading this brought back my memories of growing up and the different life stages that we all go through. How we use our hands to explore our world when we are children and learn very quickly what is safe to touch and what we should stay away from. The ending made me all teary-eyed. I could just envision what you described, and it was very moving. Thank you for this journey of life through your beloved grandmother's hands. Beautiful!
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Remarkable, endearing write, clever idea to refer to this dedication to what her hands have done and been through in her life...Stanza 5 a typo ase -as, stanza 7 hads- had, Stanza 9, line 2... were neede-weren't needed, possibly. Still, wonderfully beautiful. Blessings.
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