The Hands Of Our Parents

The hands of our parents are wrinkled and worn,
Tell a story of the years each of us were born.

A life full of giving, caring, and work
Yet the knowledge they hold could each fill a book.

The children they have raised and loved thru the years
Dan, Sandy, Linda, Janet and Stan all have brought cheers.

All 16 Grandchildren have been loved, held and rocked
By the hands of our parents, welcoming them to their flock.

The 29 Great Grandchildren have brought them such joys
To the strong hands of our parents that even made toys.

So each wrinkle and brown spot they so proudly wear
Tells a story of history they have been here to bear.

The hands of our parents show the love of us all
And every wrinkle they wear proud and tall.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem