My Fathers Hands
My Fathers Hands
If my dad's hands could have told us a story
They'd have told of some grief and some joy
Each cranny and nook like a page in a book
That was started when he was a boy
The scars on his hands were like medals
Received as he went on his way
Strange as it seems they relate to the dreams
That he held to his very last day
His hands were the hands of a workingman
The knuckles were calloused and old
They'd held dogs and rabbits and babies
But not much silver or gold
Cause my Dad spent his days as a carpenter
Breathing life into pieces of wood
Feeling the power that comes from the earth
And passes away into good
From wood box to cradle he crafted them all
Each project a model of pride
That showed the love he had for the work he performed
And the love he kept hidden inside
Worth is not measured in silver or gold
Or how much we have when life ends
Its judged by the value of truth that we hold
And the love of family and friends
My Dad's hands have told us a story
We each hold a piece of his love
And the work that he cherished while with us on earth
He performs for the man up above.
About this poem
I wrote this because I thought about what could be created through my father's hands.
Font size:
Written on January 20, 2000
Submitted by jmac1946 on July 01, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:11 min read
- 21 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | X ABXB XCXC XDXD XEFE XGXG DHDH AIFI |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,112 |
Words | 235 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Translation
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"My Fathers Hands" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/133603/my-fathers-hands>.
Discuss the poem My Fathers Hands with the community...
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In