Hers were the hands that held me and called my name,
When I as a little babe into this world I came.
She took my hands in hers as she taught me to walk,
It was to her I called out when I first learned to talk.
Hers were the hands that put me to bed,
Wiped away every tear that I ever shed.
When nightmares woke me up from sleep,
The gentle caress of her hands put me back to slumber deep.
Hers were the hands that taught me to be kind,
The seeds of which she sowed deep in my mind.
She taught me how to fold my hands in prayer,
Told me that someone's listening to me from up there.
Hers were the hands that held mine,
As I learned how to write and draw a line.
When as I naughty kid I refused to eat,
She fed me with her hands making it a delicious treat.
Hers were the hands on my head when I was sick,
Always alert and helping me in need real quick.
When with bruised knees I came home with pain,
The gentle touch of her hands made it wane.
Hers were the hands that first clapped for me,
When I went to collect my prizes with glee.
Supporting me when things went wrong,
She held my hands and made me feel strong.
Her hands are to me very close,
When I need her, my hands she tightly holds.
I am sure I can face all of life's struggles and strife,
When I hold the hands of the woman who gave me life!
This poem is written for Poetry Jam
for the prompt "Hands"