My grandma asked me to write this poem for her. I am sure going to miss her!
Grandma’s Hands
They were hands of aged beauty, tucked neatly in her lap
Upon the place the tiny ones, had rocked and slept and sat
The stories told were hidden deep within each tiny crease
But if you closed your eyes and listened each held a special piece
The day those hands graced the world, a momma’s heart so proud
They filled the tiny mouth to sleep and pushed away the sound
They grew and changed, these helpful hands, learning as they’d go
To bake and clean and sew and feed new things they didn’t know
These hands full size could work as hard as any man she knew
For a woman’s hands must be tough for all that they go through
A daily job is never done to keep the house a home
From dawn ‘til dusk they move along, a rest they’ve never known
But more than that these hands they hold the stories that are life
My favorite is the golden band when she became a wife
These hands of love had won the heart and ever held it near
They love and cherish and help hold up the one that is so dear
These hands could make the man she loved feel safe and always home
Because where the hands reside is the woman, he’s never alone
The love they share are in each line new memories that they make
Knowing that with each new line their world will grow and shape
Then babies come and in these hands they’re rocked and loved and kissed
Each tear that fell these hands would catch, never to be missed
They’d wrap the tiny babes and even when they’re grown
To love and hold, and fix it all, the way only they have known
One tiny little crease to each baby has it’s own
They grow and change and twist and turn the story lines are shown
These hands are more than hands you see, they are a life-longs tale
Grandma’s hands give new life, sustain and keep all well
The beauty is in the stories the hearts they helped to mend
Each time they touched they shared their love, to heal, to help, to tend
Grandma’s hands are magic, full of love and grace
They teach life’s lessons, heal the heart, and wipe tears from the face
The more the lines they carry, the more wisdom they contain
Because to give love to another, there’s no way to stay the same
Grandma’s hands are life, are comfort and are love
Grandma’s hands are a blessing sent from God above