Oh the dignity and grace
Of these beautiful hands....
No diamonds to adorn them
Or time's fancy brands
No nails buffed and shined
In uptown salons swank
Stained with virtuous scars
That came from their giving
The rough and scraped skin
Signs of an honest living
From a long days work
The cuticles torn
Dark tanned skin glistening
Palm swollen from a thorn
In their strength so immense
They're the gentlest pair
Folded in humility
Each morning in prayer
Weathered by the forces
Of life, and time's sands
I'd love to feel their warm clasp....
These precious calloused hands.
© Manic Sylph 2015
YOU ARE READING
Drops In My Ocean
PoetryThe rapturous drops of my heart fall as poetry into the ocean of my infinite soul. I gather my ocean into each drop, to quench the thirst of questing spirits that wander into my world....
