~ An Hour With You~
Aged and scarred the
hands gentle,
I remember them when I was small,
Softly and so tenderly they touched me,
She came to me whenever I called.
The kind loving hands of a Mother,
Always miracles in them I thought,
Fixing broken toys and drying tears,
Fulfilling each mundane task I sought.
Love's gentle touch has gone now,
It is not there for me to feel,
I miss my mother so very deeply,
Without her my life is surreal.
I watched as she changed with age,
Yet the softness never altered,
Love's gentle touch was ongoing,
In life her love ne'er faltered.
My sweet and loving mother,
The mistress of love's gentle touch,
How I yearn to again feel your hands,
Your gentleness I long for so much.
Gayle Davisİ
April 19, 2005
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