Hands


Hands, so many different kinds
Strong and able, warm and kind
Hands all soft and clean and fine
Then there's hands like yours and mine
Hands that hold a kitten, soft
Or throw the hay into the loft
Hands that comfort or define
When someone has crossed a line
Hands with knuckles cracked and red
Hands all scabbed where they have bled
Hands with band-aids, splints and casts
Hands that tell of toils past
Hands that sew and hands that cook
Hands that dust or hold a book
Hands that hold a cherised hand
And guide them to the promised land
Hands that create and hands that heal
Hands that stoke and hands that feel
But I think my favorite kind
Are scarred with life, like yours and mine

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