olivia stocks


My Hand Print - Family - Poem by olivia stocks

Here is my handprint so very small,
For you to hang up on your wall,
For you to look at as years go by,
The hand print that belonged to a girl who used to cry,
The hand that couldn’t throw a ball,
The hand that played claps with her great uncle Paul,
The hand print that belonged to a girl who would never lie,
The hand that always waved good-bye,
The hand that liked dressing up in her grandma’s shawls,
The hand print that will never die.

50 years have gone by,
The peaceful girl rests in the ground,
The words “caring, special, loving, fun” engraved on her tomb,
Her soul has died, her heart is broken,
The girl grew old,
But her hand print is still pure gold.

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Comments about My Hand Print - Family by olivia stocks

  • (11/28/2005 6:31:00 AM)


    Very moving, Olivia. Please post more of your poems. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 28, 2005



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