Petertoddpoet.com

Hands

These hands have done many things

But now tire early each night

Held babies to comfort and sing

Taught my children everything right

I slaved through my labors each day

To feed my family I loved so much

Hold my hands this I now pray

They will not break at your touch

These hands have held many of a child

To guide and protect from harm

Encircled on my finger for a long while

Is the wedding ring I will always charm?

Each turning of the calendars page

Has made them thin to the bone

My child were they not God made

To whom we all must someday atone

Please my child; hold them as I have you

I will dry my eyes of tears

My child I know through God its true

That in my heart and soul I treasure you dear