Wednesday, 2 October 2013


They hold.  They love.  They caress.
They have the power to hurt.

They feed.  They create.  They bond.

They need someone to hold them sometimes.

They clean.  They write.  They grasp.

They have broken things out of anger.

They tidy.  They drive.  They steer.

They hold bedtime story books.

They organise.  They open.  They clench.

They collate memories in albums and scrapbooks.

They fetch. They carry.  They hurt.

They rest a weary head on occasion.

They juggle.  They soothe.  They calm.

They brush away bad dreams and fears.

They heal. They work.  They beckon.

They push away and immediately pull near.

They foster.  They gather.  They play.

They have strength.  They have weakness. They have experience.

They are familiar.  They are home.  They are security.

They are my hands.


  1. This is beautiful. I've been catching up with your blog this evening, hope alls well chez vous. Xxx

    1. Thank you Niamh!!! Lovely words from a lovely lady.

  2. Have a listen to Jewels song was the song I thought of when I saw this post. Especially as you introduced me to Jewel in the 90's