I posted this in CC but I'm thinking it belongs here, too.

Mother’s Hands
(El Esteguí)
In Honor of My Mother, Soledad G. Prince - (1898-1982)

Soft silk caressing my face
Cool as morning dew
Resting on sleeping eyes,
Biding me rise from slumbers deep.

Placing tiny fingers on piano keys
Perfumed of garlic and cooking stuffs
Aristocratic hands wounded, bleeding
Doing work not meant for one delicate as she.

Mother’s hands... strong, precise
Administ’ring discipline to her lamb
Leading in the way she ought to go
“May the Lord guide and keep you, Child.”

Gray hair grows among the black, now
But still, Mother’s hands steal softy in my dreams
Laying cool hands on troubled, furrowed brow
Bringing peace, comfort and a distant echo
“May the Lord guide and keep you, Child,
And lead you in His paths.”





<font color=blue>"Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt" --Shakespeare</font color=blue>