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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The most beatiful hands
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that caressed you
and rocked you when you were little.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that guided you
when you took your first steps in life.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that bathed you,
clothed you and fed you,
during childhood.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that hugged you
and wiped away all your tears
throughout your life.
There are no more beautiful hands
than your mother's hands...
poem by Viorel Vintila
Submitted by Viorel Vintila
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty
try looking at my hands
they are empty now
for i have released
what fullness was there
what fist
what clenched hands i had
once they were so
beautiful
in bravery
but
then
there is always a threshold
of courage
suddenly you find hands opening
to the sun
hands without a grip
hands that wave goodbye
to all your friends
hands that
grasp nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
H o p e
my little hands are always looking for you
my little hands always want to hold you
my little hands will never let you go
I want to walk and be comfortable
together in your grasp
while my little hands have not been able to conquer the world
but at the moment my little hands into a future force
hands that will always hold you
and will not let you go
smile and my little hands is hope
who will take care of you
someday - is my devotion to you
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly (Children's Poem)
Mother wants to catch a beautiful butterfly
To put on in my pink dress
And bring me to stroll down the street
My Mother chases and chases
Until a butterfly
Is in caught my mother’s clever hands
But I am always swaying
Frightening the butterfly
So that when she moves, her wing is either too long this way
Or too short that way
If mother has to relax her hands
Butterfly flies away quickly
Mother wants me to be an obedient child
I stand still and move less
Finally, mother catches
A big beautiful butterfly
That becomes a bow tie on my pink dress
And our stroll begins
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All In My Hands I Hold
All in my hands I hold
Money, silver, Jewell, and gold
All those things that man can love
I still have more though some I sold
All in my hands I hold
Brackets and jackets to drive all the cold
To keep me warm and act like a stove
That when you talk all I do is to nod
All in my hands I hold
All great names in the world I'm called
Angels can know who I am from above
And tell my deeds to the might lord
All in my hands I hold
Stories I made but some I was told
Tales still fly in my head like a dove
And some still hang in my brain they're stored
All in my hands I hold
Everything in the world to you I showed
All have
But still I'm bored.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Hands
His hands should have
their own identity,
a name perhaps,
befitting each vocation
they enjoy.
Skillful hands -
finely tuned, they hold every tool
with equal panache.
Each callous earned, a trophy,
yet self-aware, they're gentle
as they browse my every curve.
Comical hands -
the right one scraping whiskers,
razoring down a field of white
revealing trails of pink-skinned angles.
I laugh at the silly poses
skewed by the left
so the right won't miss a spot,
my just reward, a foamy kiss.
Angry hands -
his driving hands,
hands that slap the wheel
as assholes go too slow
or cut in front,
directionals up their butts
with their heads.
I'm glad the angry hands
are only known to live in cars.
Those hands...
I love his hands.
Hands Up!
Live and direct, busy again.
Let there be rhythm, let there be fun.
Were just warming up to rock the groove.
On our journey of sound we gonna make you move.
You know what I mean.
In search for something like the next tomorrow
Ive got a suggestion and I need you to follow.
Hands up! hands up!
Hands up! yeeeeaheah!
This is the voice from outer space,
Responsible rhythm for the human race.
No return, no regret but resurrection.
We shout it out loud to get a reaction.
Jump all up, keep it up to the top.
That was then but this is now.
What a wonderful day just let yourself go.
Hands up! hands up!
Hands up! yeeeeaheah!
Cmon!! allright.
Once again! hands up!
Hands up! hands up! yeeeeaheah!
Yeeeeeeheah.
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Potential New Boyfriend
Got my eye on a boy
Hes eyeing me back
Its looking real good
This could be it
And I know that all of you girls
Would love to steal him away
He bought me a drink
I thanked him real sweet
Its always so nice when you first meet
And I know that all of you women would love to steal him away
So Im warning you
Chorus:
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
Building up an appetite
You can look but you cant buy
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
Pretty as a picture
Comin on so strong
Hes twisting my ignition key
Turn my motor on
But anyone can see, all his attentions on me
Give us some privacy
2nd chorus:
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
Better keep your hands off my
Its a welcome turn to try
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
Leave us alone tonight
Then if it dont work out right
Hes all yours
Until then
3rd chorus:
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
They keep crowdin in on me
He smiles rather unsuspiciously
Better keep your hands off my potential new boyfriend
Fade:
Repeat 1st chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Hands!
Hands! Gentle Hands!
When the Field at covert stands,
When your four-rear-old is sweating,
Foamed and fidgety and fretting
As a stray hound jumps the netting -
You can steady him and soothe him with your Hands!
Hands! Clever Hands!
When your tiring hunter lands
Over wall or ditch or double
With his noseband in the stubble,
That's the moment you're in trouble
If you have not got the saving gift of Hands!
Hands! Steady Hands!
When your reins seem useless bands,
With a mad brute going faster
And a toss-up which is master,
You may still avoid disaster
If Providence has given to you Hands!
Hands! Talking Hands!
At the fence below the Stands,
When you call on him to lead them,
That's the moment when you need them,
That's the time a horse will heed them
As you bring him up and help him with your Hands!
Hands! Horseman's Hands!
When the stooping fairy stands
At the cradle of a baby,
She has richer gifts, it may be,
But she never brought a better one than Hands!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Good Hands..
In the hands of a gifted teacher
A classroom is a magical place! ! !
In the hands of a gifted teacher
There's a smile on each child's face.
In the hands of gifted teacher Creative energy is every where.
In the hands of gifted teacher
There's a catalyst who genuinely care.
In the hands of gifted teacher Desire and wonder is awakened.
In the hands of gifted teacherEducation agenda is shaken.
In the hands of gifted teacher Self managment skills are manupulated In the hands of gifted teacherThe best of reality is modeled.
In the hands of gifted teacher Gifts and talents are refined.
In the hands of gifted teacher The desired future is designed.
AND YOR THE TEACHER GIFTED TO MY HANDS! ! ! !
poem by Maanasa Bhaskar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hands.... (That Dared To Speak!)
the hands....
that cleaned the old man
lying on urine stained sheets,
that planted the bulbs
in the old woman's flower bed.
that washed the dishes
for forty years....
the hands...
that built the old barn,
that plowed the fields,
that harvested the crops....
the hands...
that stroked desire's body,
that found each secret treasure,
that closed the window.
that held the baby,
that taught the child to write,
that buttoned his suit
on the day he was married.
the hands....
that buried the body,
that brushed leaves from the grave,
that packed away pictures.
the hands....
that picked up the pen,
that turned bloodstained pages,
that dared to speak!
the hands...
now old and withered,
painfully bruised,
often clasped in prayer,
that open to take the small child's hand;
that unlock the door,
and beckon to those in need...
the hands...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Aint Much Different
(gary rossington -- johnny vanzant -- hughie thomasson -- rickey medlocke -- mike estes)
This is a story bout livin
A tale of a long hard road
Aint a whole lot of misgivins
Of the things that I thought I sowed
My daddy was a real hard worker
He said son there will come a day
Talk aint always cheap
And heres what daddy had to say
With these hands Ive made my livin
With these hands Ive held a child
With these hands Ive climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different at all
He likes grits, you like the apple
There aint nothin wrong with that
He says yall, you say youse
It all depends on where youre at
Well a little bit of music is a whole lot of fun
And its always good for the soul
From new york city out to california
You know its only rock and roll
With these hands we come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different at all
Oh, not at all
So what Im trying to tell you
Is that Im only one son of the south
Its gonna take more than you me and you
To work this whole thing out
With these hands Ive made my livin
With these hands Ive held a child
With these hands Ive climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget
With these hands we come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different
We aint much different
Aint much different
At all
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!