My Grandmother's Hands

Another entry from the recent Junior Poetry Prize. This is by Rowan Sweeney of Second Form:

My Grandmother’s Hands

These were the hands that held

Me when I cried.

These were the hands that wiped

Away the tears while in pain.

These were the hands that gave

me money, sweets and love.

These were my Grandmother’s hands.

These were the hands that protected

Me when Mummy wasn’t there.

These were the hands whose hugs

could stop tears.

These were the hands that read me

Stories when I was afraid

To go to sleep.

These were my Grandmother’s hands.

These are the hands that are now

So cold.

These are the hands that have

grown old.

These are the hands that I will never

Hold.

These are my Grandmother’s hands.