En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Her Hands

Have you seen her hands, gnarled and crooked with age?
Translucent skin accenting blue-black veins,
Contrasting tendon cords of white through spots
Of brown upon the backs of her old hands?

Those hands were once the strength of our household.
They fashioned us into a family core.
They bound us with the mastic of their love.
Without apparent weariness they cooked,
And cleaned, and washed, performing endless tasks.

No motion lost in their resolve, they spoke
In silent speech.
Articulate, when truth involved;
Elequent, in matters of the heart;
Convincingly, when we had misbehaved.
On rocking lap, their touch would calm my troubled sleep;
Madicinal was their caress on fevered brow.

Restive age has slowed the winging of those birdlike hands.
Now, trembling with fatigue they struggle to maintain
Their height, afraid to fall, too weak to fly,
They watch the flock on wing, its passing south across
The winter's sky

They wait.

(Blank Verse)

poem by Lynn W. Petty
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My mother's hands

My mother had thick, wide, hands,
callused from years of hard work.
I used to like to hold them,
feel their strength and warmth

Those were the hands that cared,
caressed and held her me close.
Those were the hands that scrubbed
and washed, cooked for us and nursed.

My mother had beautiful hands
and would paint her nails light pink.
They were warm, artistic hands
that could crochet well and knit.

Those were the hands that created,
made beautiful shawls and clothes.
Those were the hands that altered dresses
I wore ‘til they were old.

My mother had beautiful hands
that cooked and cleaned and scrubbed,
and within the things that those hands did
were bundles and bundles of love.

poem by Ruth Walters
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The Passing Of A Heart

O touch me with your hands--
For pity's sake!
My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
As only your cool touch may take away;
And so, I pray
You, touch me with your hands!

Touch--touch me with your hands.--
Smooth back the hair
You once caressed, and kissed, and called so fair
That I did dream its gold would wear alway,
And lo, to-day--
O touch me with your hands!

Just touch me with your hands,
And let them press
My weary eyelids with the old caress,
And lull me till I sleep. Then go your way,
That Death may say:
He touched her with his hands.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Miles And Miles

years and years,
miles and miles...
of hands,
grasping mine, holding on
for a time and then letting go...
being grasped by mine,
being pulled up, pulling up,
held onto in spite of...

black, brown, white, and red...
male and female, old and young,
soft, gnarled, and scarred...

hands joining together,
backs against the wall,
hands that pray without letting go,
hands that let go
when the time demands...

hands that build and take down,
that deliver and stand by...
hands powered by hearts
that beat true and human!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)

i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.

hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!

hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....

whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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My heart is my hands

My hands

Is

Only my hands...

Not for

your hands....

So...

I want too work

My hands...

I want too serve

My hands...

I want to do about

Somthing of my

Hands...

My hands is

Free for only

Sleeping time only...

my hands is

working all the times

My hands not only

Hands...

It is human workers...

Allways for my friends...

My hands...is my heart...

My heart is my hands.....

Ok...How is your hands...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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These Hands

Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Hemorrhage

Hemorrhage (In My Hands)"
memories are just where you laid them
drag the waters 'till the depths give up their dead
what did you expect to find?
was there something you left behind?
don't you remember anything i said when i said
don't fall away, and leave me to myself
don't fall away and leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands again
leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands
love lies bleeding
oh hold me now i feel contagious
am i the only place that you've left to go
she cries her life is like
some movie black and white
dead actors faking lines
over and over and over again she cries
don't fall away, and leave me to myself
dont fall away, and leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands again
leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands
love lies bleeding
and i wanted
you turned away
you don't remember, but i do
you never even tried
don't fall away and leave me to myself
don't fall away and leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands again
leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands
love lies bleeding

song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Touch My Body

when you touch my body with your trembling hands tonight
i choose to simply close my eyes
too, i am trembling to this passion
this desire i have been waiting
all these years, when we are nothing but
passing glimpses, until one day,

i tell you my name, i touch your lips i caress your hair
and you are awakened
by this kind of love
this total undressing this total nudity
even in tears and untold quiver

in this room, you are with me
there will be silence anticipating
our joys our confessions our opening up

hands to hands and soul to soul
we will be losing ourselves
tonight i am revealing all my skins and longings
i am naked
i am yours.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vow of a Wedding ring

Is this the way it should be
Endless horizon of distance
With a Love armored by faith
Yet dropped the sword of chance

Confused of how we broke
The oath of Love eternal
And no word has been told
Why Love should lost forever

And now you're there
In the aisle of roses
Walking like an angel
In a wedding dress
With a smile like fist
That pound my chest
As you're hands and hands
With someone else

Hands and hands
Now you're with him
For now you're mine
Just in my dreams
Too afraid of what I feel
For our last would be
Just an inches near

And now all i have
Are tears and sigh
As i watch you walk
Along the aisle
A silent cry is all I can

To let you march
In a Wedding hymn
To let you take the vow
Of a wedding ring

poem by Mycris Macapia
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Our Hands

My hands once warm,
And clothed in yours,
my hands once full,
and held in yours.

Empty hands,
Cold hands,
my hands have lost their,
Partner as you once were for me,

Your hands at once rough,
and soft,
Always gentle when in mine,
our hands would meet to fill the cold,

My hands now empty cover tears,
my hands once warm now with
a freezing touch,
your hands are gone,
the warmth they held has left,
these hands of mine.

poem by Rebecca Adams
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I Shall Have These Hands That Shall Write About Hands....

must have i forgotten
from where all these come?

ah, i have read about your hands
and now i shall have to mind about mine

once i had these hands
whose name is
work and struggle and
sacrifice

they lifted rocks
outlined by Sisyphus
and roll them from
atop the hill
and put them again there
in senseless
labor

when i got reason
my hands began to think
as though they have brains
under their nails

these hands begin the
questions
grapple for answers
and got
no satisfaction

they dabble in poetry
trembling and tense and
looking for
a compromise for some
fetish

must have i forgotten from where
these hands come?

someone says these hands are from
the hands of God
whose hands hand what we do not have
in hand yet

these hands did what was wrong then
and covered the face of the
penitent and the remorseful

these hands that slap a face that
triggered a gunfire
that lay upon the hardened breasts
and held breaths

these hands that write now for you
face upside down not asking for anything in return

these hands that speak for you
as you turn your head for someone else.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At Nightfall

O little hands, long vanished in the night--
Sweet fairy hands that were my treasure here--
My heart is full of music from some sphere,
Where ye make melody for God's delight.
Though autumn clouds obscure the starry height,
And winds are noisy and the land is drear,
In this blank room I feel my lost love near,
And hear you playing--hands so small and white.
The shadowy organ sings its songs again,
The dead years turn to music at its voice,
And all the dreams come back my brain did store.
Once more, dear hands, ye soothe me in my pain,
Once more your music makes my heart rejoice--
God speed the day we clasp for evermore!

poem by Frederick George Scott
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Old Hands And Old Eyes....

old hands unbutton
the blouse of the day.
old hands make coffee,
open the dusty blinds.
old hands wash a few dishes,
make breakfast for the dogs...
old hands feed the stray cat,
make toast and wait.
old eyes caress the sunlight
as if an old friend.
old eyes see the work,
yet stop, to touch the morning.
old eyes kiss the trees,
the squirrels, and distant mountains.
old eyes ache with longing,
and amazement.

old hands and old eyes
begin the journey anew.
listening intently for the footfall,
for another candle, a hoe.
for the scent of nearness,
perhaps only remembered.
old hands and old eyes,
take the plow, the hammer,
and the nails....
old hands and old eyes,
waiting for love!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Stalemate

I do not give thanks to the hands that feed me

I work for those
Hands anyway
Writing his letters
His own contents
Not to my delight

I love somebody else, her hands are soft
Her thoughts so graceful
Touching me
Penetrating the deepest recesses of my brain
My soul jumps with joy
To the sight of her,

She eats me, I am half-consumed yet I
Sing of her
Kiss her all day

Yet what does she give me?

This death unto myself,

The hands that feed me caress me to no end
Helping me live, I understand this kindness perfectly

How I wish to love the feeding hands
How I wish to reeducate myself & learn to live on these hands

I am hardheaded, as always thinking about her all day all night long.
The heart has its own foolish reasons, while the feeding hands

Are patient, and silent, understanding my true longings.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Beautiful Hands

Your hands--they are strangely fair!
O Fair--for the jewels that sparkle there,--
Fair--for the witchery of the spell
That ivory keys alone can tell;
But when their delicate touches rest
Here in my own do I love them best,
As I clasp with eager, acquisitive spans
My glorious treasure of beautiful hands!

Marvelous--wonderful--beautiful hands!
They can coax roses to bloom in the strands
Of your brown tresses; and ribbons will twine,
Under mysterious touches of thine,
Into such knots as entangle the soul
And fetter the heart under such a control
As only the strength of my love understands--
My passionate love for your beautiful hands.

As I remember the first fair touch
Of those beautiful hands that I love so much,
I seem to thrill as I then was thrilled,
Kissing the glove that I found unfilled--
When I met your gaze, and the queenly bow,
As you said to me, laughingly, 'Keep it now!' . . .
And dazed and alone in a dream I stand,
Kissing this ghost of your beautiful hand.

When first I loved, in the long ago,
And held your hand as I told you so--
Pressed and caressed it and gave it a kiss
And said 'I could die for a hand like this!'
Little I dreamed love's fullness yet
Had to ripen when eyes were wet
And prayers were vain in their wild demands
For one warm touch of your beautiful hands.

. . . . . . . . .
Beautiful Hands!--O Beautiful Hands!
Could you reach out of the alien lands
Where you are lingering, and give me, to-night,
Only a touch--were it ever so light--
My heart were soothed, and my weary brain
Would lull itself into rest again;
For there is no solace the world commands
Like the caress of your beautiful hands.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Those Hands Joining

Great grandma’s hands
Grandma’s, mama’s,
sister's hands
Aunt’s and niece’s
Hands, they join today

An epic telling the stories
About touch, about prayer,
About reaching, about the years
Of caressing and holding on
To love, persevering and
Resting the hands on the
Hands of the other hands
Those moments of silence
When the hands speak more
When the mouths accept
The loss of the power of words
When even the hearts give in
Because the hands are warmer
And so comforting.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Hands Are Folded

My Hands Are Folded

my hands are folded in supplication
I need your help, i need to relax
i need calm, rest, light, peace
courage, forgiveness

my hands are folded
i bow down to my only Saviour
my anchor of safety
my harbor of protection
my heaven of peace

my eyes look up to you
with confidence, with hope
i come as one sick
to his physician
as one poor and needy
to the Lord of heaven and earth

grant that i may see you
in all things
in good and ill health
in joy as in sorrow

grant me oh Lord
the grace to accept with patience
the monotony of daily tasks
to embrace with resignation
the fatigue and exhaustion
of days too long and too full
for my physical strength

grant me the ability to be relaxed
and be calm in the thought of your love
to find rest in the assurance
that you are with me
always and forever...Amen

poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Reach Up For The Sunrise

Duran Duran - Reach Up For The Sunrise
Verse 1
Now The Time Has Come, The Music's Between Us
Though The Night Seems Young
Is At An End
Only Change Will Bring, You Outta Of The Darkness
In This Moment Everything, Is Born Again
Chorus
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Verse 2
Now The FireBall Burns, We Go Out Together
As The Planet Returns, Into The Light
Something More Than Dreams To Watch Out For Each Other
Cos' We Know What It Means To Be Alive!
Chorus
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Verse 3
*Music*
Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Feel The New Day...
*Music*
Chorus
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!
Reach Up For The Sunrise, Put Your Hands In To The Big Sky!
You Can Touch The Sunrise, Feel The New Day Into Your Life!

song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What You Got

The way your body keeps moving
Is something that makes me weak
Lets start our own little secrets
For just you and me to keep
Too late to come off shy now
You've already gone this far
So baby make your move, take charge
Show me what you got for me
Oh no
(Girl)
Is that your hands, (your hands), rubbing on me
Oh no
(Girl)
Oh no
(Girl)
Is that your hands, (your hands), ooh on me
Oh no
(Girl)
Is that your hands, (your hands), rubbing on me
If so
(Girl)
If that's your hands, (your hands), then tell me what you got for me

song performed by by Justin Timberlake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praying Hands

I had a dream with my lord CHRIST
He touched my head, not once but twice.
I felt my body jump up in bed
I saw the nail holes in his hands that bled.

I felt the power of his healing hands
He showed it to me so I could understand.
With faith in our hearts he will heal
And his hands you will feel.

I awoke that morning with the spirit inside
Those praying hands I had to find.
I found a figurine of his hands
And put it upon my night stand.

In my prayers that I say day and night
I squeeze those hands with all my might.
Now when I feel life s pressures are getting me down
I touch those hands that I had found.

And when I feel an ailment or two
Then I know what I must do.
I touch those hands and say a prayer
This is the bond that we share.

There is no other feeling like the love of GOD
When you have him in your heart.

poem by Louis Rams
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