Sunday, February 1, 2015

My worn old hands



Now I look at my worn old hands
I wonder at time’s moving sands
Marvel at all they and I have done 
With such countless rounds of the sun      
I sought comfort at my mother’s breast
Pointing to what I wanted best
Then touching my fathers nose
Or pushing away a medicine dose
My childish digging the beaches sand   
Splashing in the sea hand in hand        
Patting and stroking the family dog 
Or catching a bewildered frog        
Sneaking a touch of my classmate’s curls
Forgetting I didn’t like such girls
Then later after holding one tight
Started thinking of our wedding night
Touch is such an important gift
The heart then soars with such a lift
These hands drew and wrote so many words
Setting my mind free to fly as the birds
They wrote of adventure and of fable
Of love and honesty as I was able
I wonder at time’s moving sands
As I look at my worn old hands


Image found at www.somewritingspace.wordpress.com

25 comments:

  1. wonderful depiction of how the hands are but an extension of our life's experiences. i was born in a culture where hugs and kisses are a normal way of greeting.

    this was lovely, mi amigo

    gracias

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  2. I think this is one of my favourite poems of yours Old Egg..a journey with you...

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  3. A seven ages of hands ode! I love the look of hands young and old, and like how you have captured both the work of hands and the sense of touch at the same time.

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  4. Hands have many stories to tell, if only we have ears to hear!

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  5. wonderful...touch is a wonderful gift :) and I agree, hands have many stories to tell.

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  6. Touch build up so much of a life.. and we learn and grow with it.. actually all trough life...

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  7. thanks for sharing to us your story to us. your hands are testaments to your experiences in life.

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  8. Touch definitely is an important thing, and so often we do not think about our 'hand' memories. I like the way your poem does this, like the way it shares your hand history.

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  9. touch is def an important gift...one that sadly is withheld all too much....hands can be so evocative and def tell the story of the person....nice write....

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  10. Those moving hands have much to give and offer, smiles ~ I agree that touch is an important gift specially when we care for others ~ Enjoyed your childhood & growing up reflections as well ~

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  11. A lot of our discovering of the world is done through our hands. You conveyed it well.

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  12. Very reminiscing... those old hands weigh more than how it looked.. I like your rhymes & cadences from beginning to end.. Nicely!

    - ksm

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  13. Well, I have to hand it to you, that is an absolutely superb poem. It actually got me thinking about where my had been and what they had done - some of it unprintable here of course! Oh, sorry about the pun!

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  14. How I relate when I see the wrinkles of my face and wonder at those laugh lines, the tears, the life....wonderful memories in those hands and all you have touched.

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  15. Hands can tell stories can't they! Loved this, and now I am looking at my hands!

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  16. I LOVE THIS! Perhaps because it could be me! Lovely work, Robin.

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  17. I like this very much. All the stories old hands have to tell. Thank you for visiting my blog as well.

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  18. Our hands can reveal what our lips don't speak. A good journey.

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  19. They look beautiful to me! AndI like the way you describe a whole life lived through them.

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  20. A nice ode to hands. And often we take them so much for granted.

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  21. this is really endearing; hands are really taken for granted especially if you are Catholic like me, we meet at Holy Mass and shake hands at the sigh of peace, and you get into a habit syndrome, yet if we even ponder that greeting its is such a divine and magnificent gesture

    Happy you stopped over at My Sunday Lime

    much love...

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  22. What a cool perspective - memories attached to hands. Cool write, Robin.

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  23. what a nice journey you've taken us on....

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  24. What a lovely poem ~ such nice memories from your childhood and your life. It's true that touch is important to feel connected and loved.

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  25. The history we've worn upon ourselves. Well written

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