her hands show the breathless beauty of a life lived
lines that show how truly endless they did give
how open to life they did receive
deep and profound in what they believe
weathered beauty of a spirit’s happiness,
and sadness
touching turns the leather roughness
into gentle softness of their spirit
letting one’s heart hear it as well as feel it
grace is defined in each crevice
showing strength in compassion and kindness
not hardened wrinkles written in fret and worries
but a road map of her journey’s stories
holding secrets and memories
through the winds of mystery
so still she holds a bouquet of flowers…they whisper….forget-me-not
pale blue, fragile as the breath of life she has sometimes fought
a bouquet of simplicity, yet so deep and divine,
within her silence she wants what we all do, to be remembered, not left behind
hands seems hard and cold, weathered by the storms
yet now as one reaches out and holds one, we know they are soft and warm
perfect beauty is in the eye of the beholden
where threads of time have entwined them into silver moons and years of golden
)0(
ladyblue
1*13*13
Such a breathtaking and mesmerizing poem of exquisite beauty and heart. I was moved to shed some tears. Maryrose you are and will always be a special treasure with the words your heart shares. ..God bless!
Such brilliance shines from your words Maryrose… you weaved together the story of those hands. and I often look at a persons hands, as they tell so much, for they have touched many lives.. as you have with this poem.. Thank you …
For-get-me-nots are special to me also.. I dug up a plant from my Dad’s garden, after he died and replanted.. It reseeds each year and I spread the seeds around to other places in my garden.. and is forever held gently within my own hand as I take a closer look at the flowers when they bloom…
Thank you for stirring my own memory today
Sue xox
OMG, Maryrose…………I absolutely love this……… hands to hold another hold a lifetime. Beautiful. ~ Ever, Bobbie
How timely your poem describes what I hold in my heart. With a perfect song to match. Thank you so ever much. Giving breath to our bouquets.
Pink.
I swear to you that those could be my grandmother’s hands after her decades of hard toil on the farm, and the design mimics the frocks or dresses she wore. At 96 she was still working hard on the farm.
this is the most incredible photo…
I could see an era of the strength of her nurturing life and cradling death…
yes a farmer’s hands….such strength in those lines….
I am glad you stopped by…Thank you
Take Care…
)0(
ladyblue
thank you Lady!
Love your soulful poetry!
Helena
and Thank you for reading my words…
I appreciate your words..
Take Care..
)0(
ladyblue
Beautiful photo and perfect poem!!
~Lynn
Thank you Lynn….
Hope you are well and busy?
Take Care…
)0(
maryrose