The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website

Motherly Hands


Monorum Horl

They have dug dirt,
Have been sliced through
By the cruelty of man;
They-have been frozen as cold
As a scene
Beneath an autumn moon.
They are wrinkled
By the many months,
Or years,
Or decades
Of overwork;
Darkened by the shadows of life.
Bones have been broken
Like the leaves which autumn now dismisses
And which have been crushed,
Walked on,
Thrown away,
Or blown away
By the better of things.
Until now,
Through blinding tears
I look back once more
To see the apparitions of those hands,
Which have touched my heart,
And which have reached
A heavenly place there.
Until now,
As I grudgingly regret,
Wish to thank them much
In a time that is now too late:
For they have turned
Quite gray and cold.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.