Her Earlier in the semester, Mrs. Young’s GHS Junior English classes were reading, writing, and analyzing poetry. For part of the unit, the students were instructed to observe or think about the hands of someone significant to them and create a poem about that person from the perspective of his/her hands. The students’ poems were displayed anonymously for selection by their classmates. The poems which received the most votes were chosen for publication. These poets, selected by their peers, are honored to share their work with you.


By Dwight H.

Dedicated to Tara Grider

Hands so soft, so sincere

Hands that brought me to light when dark was near

Pulled me up when I was knocked down

Covered my ears and whispered to me with a soothing sound.

Bonded with the band on her hand

Showing the truth, that it will not end

Fingernails scratching my back, soothing the madness

And for my sake, hiding the sadness.

Palms bruised from the pain

Secretly holding a razor blade thinking there was no gain

Hands that brought the light to the dark

Hands that made cut after cut, mark after mark.

Fingers reached out to me, looking for a new start

4 years now, still holding my heart

Hands so soft, so sincere

With nothing left to fear.

Holding Me


Dedicated to Mrs. DeLaCruz

Hands helping me out when I’m falling

Fingers wipe away my tears

Her hands will be calling

And protect me from my fears

Hands that have been damaged

Hands hold tight to show their love

Her hands help others manage

Hands hold me tight like a small glove

Hands care so much it’s hard to bear

But they’ll always hand me a line

Just ask and they’ll be there

Hands that will help out at anytime

Sister’s hands

By Anonymous

She cooked,

She cleaned,

She meant everything.

She talked,

She walked,

I keep remembering.

She drew,

She wrote,

Her hands were how she spoke.

They were bound,

They were gagged,

Her hands were looking sad.

I Cooked,

I Cleaned,

She Was Everything.

I talked,

I walked,

I Will Never Stop Remembering.

I Drew,

I Wrote,

Then I Never Spoke.

I Was Bound,

I Was Gagged,

My Life Was Looking Sad.


The hands that held me when I was crying

The hands that were always there providing

The hands that always showed me love

The hands that are always stern and tough

The hands that were there from the start

The hands that will never leave my heart

The hands that raised a young man

The hands that gave me the strength to stand

The hands that through hurt, helped me calm

The hands I’m proud to call Mom.

Hand of Jan

By: Faith Fultz

Dedicated to Jan “Nana” Fultz

This hand is rough and strong,

It’s done hard work all its life.

This hand has cooked and baked,

It’s held me afloat in water.

This hand has taken many fun adventures.

It’s guided me in the right direction.

Most importantly, this hand has protected me.

This hand will do all it can,

For anyone it can.

This hand belongs to a mother,

A grandmother.

This hand belongs to Jan.

My Grandma’s Hands

By Masheayah Moore

Dedicated to Johnie Bishop

Her gentle hands

Reach out to me

And pull me into

Her warm embrace

Her soft hands

Hold me tight

And give me

Comfort and support

Her loving hands

Guide me in the right direction

Out of danger

Out of fear

My Grandma’s Hands

Are my biggest fan

They cheer me on

In everything I do

Wise Hands


Dedicated to my father

Young hands can make meaningless mistakes.

These hands have been wounded and bruised.

Have probably been through a lot more than you.

With that being so he is a wise hand

wrapped around vertical metal bars.

His mistakes have identified him

and people have no other choice

but to love those hands as they are.

These hands have helped people

and have made a drastic change in my life.

My Mother’s Hands


Dedicated to Raydell Barbry

Her hands took care of me.

Those gentle hands carried me

For nine months and were the

First ones to hold me.

Those gentle hands bandaged,

Taped, and stitched the broken

Pieces of my heart.

They’ve picked me up when I

Have fallen down. My mother’s

Hands help guide me through

This crazy adventure called LIFE.


By Ali Randolph

Papa’s hands show toughness.

The hands have gone through so

much at such a young age,

but that doesn’t phase him.

The two hands used to throw a

ball as if it was his whole world.

He held his future in his hands.

It’s hard for his hands to love, but

they do; unconditionally. When

he holds my nana’s hands I know

he’s trying.

His hands show strength and courage.

Whatever life throws his way, he fights hard

like nothing is different.

No fear

The two hands show hard work.

Nothing was handed to him in life.

He works hard for what he wants.

My Father’s Hands

By Anonymous

My father’s rough, dry hands.

He worked all day, every day

To provide for our family.

He kept commitments which were

Placed on his right hand, ring finger.

He calls that the “Ring of Commitment”

Those hard working hands helped

Us build our farm.

Those hands make good food also.

He has a warm touch when he hugs me

And puts his arms around me.

I will love him and he will always love me

Grandma’s Hands

By Anonymous

Dedicated to Grandma

Small, Pale hands

Around a Bible on a Sunday.

Soft, Frail hands

Cooking dinner on a Monday.

Old, Wrinkled hands

Sewing patches in my jeans.

Caring, Teaching hands

Raising two rebellious teens.