Hands lined with old age
Wrinkled and covered with marks
Hands that nurtured me.
Copyright 2019, Rose Marie Juan - Austin, All Rights Reserved
How could you not worship and love, hands like that and not be forever grateful for a mother's care and love. I write this with tears in my eyes, I am so moved by your words, thinking of my own mother too.. Only exceptional poetry can do that.
I find impenetrable love at the backdrop of this little poem! Loved reading it...................10
octogenarian hands harsh, wrinkled....; yeah; these hands are hands of kind and nurture these hands are hands of merciful care.....//// great write
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
Living, Growing old! ! ! Old age, Seeing the muse of the hands that nurtured you. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We see those caring hands. A wonderful poem dear Rose.