December 26

My Mother’s Hands

My Mother’s Hands

 

Dear gentle hands have stroked my hair

And cooled my brow,

Soft hands that pressed me close

And seemed to know somehow,

Those fleeting moods and erring thoughts

That cloud my day,

Which quickly melt beneath their suffrage

And pass away.

 

No other balm for earthly pain

Is half so sure,

No sweet caress as filled with love

Nor half so pure.

No other soul so close akin that understands,

No touch that brings such perfect peace as Mother’s hands.

 

~Charlotte G. Slater       1.18.01

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Posted December 26, 2019 by Charlotte von Wolfle Greer in category "All of Charlotte's Poetry

About the Author

From Review: "Charlotte Von Woffle Greer is an artist in the truest sense of the word. Tormented, embattled, strong, fearless and fearful. Curious, and full of wonder yet jaded and defeated at times. An artist shares what they feel. A true and brave artist shares what they feel completely as Charlotte does, in these pages." -Erik Johnson