Mum's Beautiful Hand Poem by U Win Kyi

Once mum's hand was soft and tender,
nail polished and manicured,
Now callous and roughened,
nail brittle and hardened,
shape deformed and deeply wrinkled,
vein engorged and firmer,
due to hard work for decades of years.
It rocked the cradle
to make me sleep quieter.
When I cried in fear,
it wiped the tears.
When I was irritant in despair,
it consoled me by stroking my hair.
When I felt sad,
on my shoulder it gave a pat.
When I was rude in manner,
a hard spank it didn't spare.
When i went astray,
the index finger pointed me the right way.
When I met a big loss,
the fingers kept crossed.
Mum's hand is a God-send
to make me into a good decent man.