The gentle hands of a strong man
are what she noticed first.
His teasing smile and keen wit
not too far behind.
Let go, he didn't, throughout the years;
her fingers often tucked under his arm,
his securely wrapped around hers. The
intimacy of their hands, often enough.
His beloved hands taught their children
discipline, fairness, and perseverance; a
slightly calloused touch that soothed away
a daughter's tears and a son's fears.
Over the years his hands showed them love
and caressed many a fevered brow.
Hands willing to lighten her load
and lead the family in prayer.
She found his leathered gloves
in the drawer and slipped her hand inside,
the warmth familiar, and laid the softness
against her cheek reluctant to let go.
by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens 365, May 20, 2011
This is for "Poetry Jam" and the topic is "Father". I reworked this from a poem I wrote for "Magpie Tales" entitled "Memories" back in December of 2010. I also linked "Beloved Hands" to One Stop Poetry's "Friday Poetically" with Brian Miller.
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This is Newhall Audubon Nature Preserve at Hilton Head, SC. Its description is: "Features a wide variety of fauna and flora, this scenic nature reserve also serves as home to many species of birds". Well, we didn't see many birds, but we did attract the attention of a baby alligator. It was a short hike around this place; the pond was the highlight for us. The above photo is for "Weekend Reflections".
I thought the leaves on his nose added a bit of a comical look.
There were a number of turtles darting about as well. He didn't pay them any mind. I realized he was watching US. My daughter moved away and his eyes followed her, and he backed up and followed her down the path for a bit. I think he gets fed tidbits from visitors. I'm sure that is not a good idea...