[JustAmy]

June 17, 2008



Graphic by Billie

Gnarled

The hands reach out, once more again,
Adept at dealing with tasks at hand.
Gnarled, and twisted, but so strong,
And used to setting right what’s wrong.

Could he have been a surgeon? No,
Though dextrous, these fingers were not so,
With delicate strength of fine control,
And subtle movements in a larger whole.

His were the hands that swung a pick,
Or axe, and metal tools held by a stick,
The swinging arm, the muscles bunched,
No music from the things he crunched.

He beat the world down all around,
To make his place, and stand his ground.
No task was easy from his birth,
His was a world of stubborn earth.

And yet, in gross examples of his art,
He showed the love deep in his heart.
His strength was guided in its course,
By limits to the use of force.

And when the oak was split, and planed,
He felt the smoothness that he’d gained.
Removing roughness was his art,
He practiced it upon his heart.

He could have held a wolf at bay,
And yet I well recall the day,
His little dog was taken ill,
The tears from every eye did spill.

And though his strength was that of ten,
He could not work his magic then,
No tools he had would fill the bill,
His gnarled and twisted hands lay still.

The roughness of the world struck back,
And proved that it could still attack.
How like a splinter one small pet,
Will not allow one to forget.

His work is done now, his hands rest.
It’s now my turn to pass the test.
I’ve set out on my own grand quest.
His work is done now. His hands rest.

NicknamedBob . . . . February 20, 2005
© 2005 - 2008

.

[gardengirl]

Daddy[’s hands.

[Lady Jag]

Fairy Wings

There's a fairy sitting by the pool making fairy wings. from gossamer and spider webs and silk worm's silk and things. In summer-time they have a ball; the elves and gnomes come one and all. The music's played in trumpet flowers; the ball goes on for hours and hours. As dawn begins to break and people start to rise, the fairies clear their tables for they are very wise. They know NOT to leave things around to show folk where they dwell. For maybe curious folk will want to live with them as well. But fairy-land is fairy-land and humans can't intrude. For THEY are known to be polite and some of US are rude. Don't go in search of fairies. Don't cause these ones to grieve. Let's not disturb their habitat. Be humble and believe. We've all seen sparkling cobwebs and flowers of every hue The sweet, sweet honey nettle and buttercups filled with dew. Remember there are fairies running all around, but sure enough not one of them ever has been found. Let your imagination, the wonder of make-believe, take you to a wonderland grown-ups have had to leave. So if you should see cobwebs, sparkling dew and fairy rings Remember that somewhere close by they're making fairy wings. Rita Alyson Petts

[JustAmy]

Thank you both for today’s opening Graphic and Poem.

Billie .... the graphic is a perfect match for NnB’s poem. Thank you.

NnB ..... Thank you for sharing your archives with Amy’s Place.