My Father's Hands Poem by JoAnn McGrath
My Father's Hands
My Father's Hands
As I look upon my father's hands
now a spotted, wrinkled road map,
that time, sun and sweat,
have hardened them to a painted tortoise shell.
Those, the same hands that I once feared,
and yet at the same time so gentle
that they held my tiny hand deep within.
I feared nothing as if he was the grace of God.
Will they still remember me?
My Father's hands.
9 April 2008
this is an emotional but a beautiful write sis. I love this
A splendid poem JoAnn! Thank you for sharing, a joy to read indeed! ! *10*! ! Best wishes! Friend Thad
Just Simply Beautiful. Thank you for sharing and have no doubt you have jolted a lot of memories for people. Regards Craig.
I am sure that your father's hands will remember you. Beautiful poem. Shine on, JoJo. Love, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 8:30:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Lil sis, they will still remember you. Your still that little daddy's girl from long, long ago. This is beautiful and very poignant. Top marks and thanks for sharing it Lil sis. Big Bruv