These Hands

These hands once young and smooth,

now carry the scars of time.

Some days I gaze upon them,

and wonder whose they are.

Once the hands of a child,

that loved to play in the mud.

Never a thought or worry,

as to how these hands looked.

As years passed priorities changed,

and these hands became important.

Lotions, potions and painted nails

to show off their natural beauty.

Then arrived the child raising years,

keeping these hands so busy.

Carrying babies, then chasing toddlers,

playing and enjoying precious moments.

Laundry and cleaning, meals to cook,

making a house a home.

Ensuring that all within the walls,

feel safe, secure and loved.

Years of working took their toll,

slowly these hands transformed.

Once smooth and blemish free,

small changes began to appear.

Now the senior years have arrived,

and time has left a trail.

As I think of all these hands have done,

I welcome every scar, wrinkle and flaw.