Holiday
Loving Hands
each crease, line, place, time, furrowed bits of a well worn kind, deep within memories cast, shadows fading ever fast, soft, safe in mother's hand, crossing to another's land, washing, raw, red, and chafed, all to keep another's space; bleeding, giving all you could, kneading life, for another's good; recipes bled between worn threads, all to keep the family fed, living on rations, ne'er to resign to the place your momma left behind, brushing hair, steaming dresses, all the while, braiding tresses, always ready, to use those hands to keep things steady, when they ached no one knew, you gave it all as your family grew, tender times, stitched within your heart of gold was strength that shined, you were so bold, you kept on going while other's wept, then one last time with your kitchen swept, your hands reached out and took in mine, dearest Grandma, my Valentine.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
Vultures
Vultures all That is our culture now They fly in for a bite Once they’ve got what they need They take flight Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
