My Old Mother's Hands Poem by Rose Marie Juan-austin

Living, Growing old! ! ! Old age, Seeing the muse of the hands that nurtured you. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

A marvellous poem on mother's wrinkled hands that play a very important role in our lives.

This great caring jewel created with the most tender touch that causes me instant tears and great melancholic senses. This immense gem written in great honesty will echo endlessly in my soul although my beloved Mum has deceased, your loving words make me remember her crystal clear again, true precious words, dear great Poetess, I constantly cherish. Myriad of 10's fot this Gem. God Blesses thee perpetually.

Love’s tenderness....And love is tenderness.

Another piece brilliantly and feelingly penned. Hands lined with old age Bringing to me my life's old page.

What a wonderful portrait so vividly painted here! Thank you for this brilliant poem! Your mother must have been an incredible person.

U are lucky as those old hands have donated u good words and astounding brain to enliven us by your very very effective poems, MAM Rose.

There is no way we can ever give thanks enough for our mothers they are a god sent...Great job Rose...

An excellent piece in the real sense.Thank u, dear poetess.anjandev Roy.

Hands lined with old age Wrinkled and covered with marks Hands that nurtured me. ...lovely