Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HANDS, by MARY ANN SOUTOR First Line: My mother's hands could cradle large, brown jugs with ease Last Line: Molded to sift the gold long laid away. Subject(s): Hands; Mothers; Stepmothers | ||||||||
My mother's hands could cradle large, brown jugs with ease, Jugs and hands well blended, I recall. Not of poetic beauty could or will they boast, But they were hands made to please And soothe a small boy and his pain. Rough and sketchy, portrait incomplete -- Put away and not displayed to all. But the hands of my father's wife Were soft, cool and delicate, they say. Their pointed nails painstakingly were dipped In red -- red as blood of life. Coaxed were they to curve, These hands of picturesque beauty bold, Molded to sift the gold long laid away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WEDNESDAY'S CHILD by MARIE HARRIS MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS WHEN I'M KILLED by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES IN THE SHADOWS: 20 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) THE VAMPIRE by RUDYARD KIPLING THE BROWN THRUSH by LUCY LARCOM SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |
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