April 21, 2021
April 21, 2021
A Mother’s Hands
Hands that rocked the cradle from the moment of my birth,
Their tender touch remembered by those still on earth.
Soft as silk those hands that taught me how to pray,
Banishing childhood fears; they soothed each one away.
When I grew much older and troubles came my way,
Those hands caressing mine did more than words could say.
Mother’s hands were gentle, they’re missed so very much,
I’d give the world to feel once more their warm and tender touch.
Those hands were full of comfort now they lie at rest,
But memories hold them close to the ones they served the best.
Author Marian Jones
Hands that rocked the cradle from the moment of my birth,
Their tender touch remembered by those still on earth.
Soft as silk those hands that taught me how to pray,
Banishing childhood fears; they soothed each one away.
When I grew much older and troubles came my way,
Those hands caressing mine did more than words could say.
Mother’s hands were gentle, they’re missed so very much,
I’d give the world to feel once more their warm and tender touch.
Those hands were full of comfort now they lie at rest,
But memories hold them close to the ones they served the best.
Author Marian Jones