This is in your memory, mother
I'm holding to my vow,
Remembering the gentle hands,
That caressed my fevered brow.

The pin pricked hands that stayed up late,
Making dresses for me,
Fitting me patiently,
With patterns of tranquility.

The floured hands that kneaded bread,

Baked cookies, cakes and pies,
Using the tender leaven of care,
Warmed in your loving eyes.

The soil covered hands that tended
A garden sowed in tears,
For all the weeds you pulled from us,
During our growing up years.

Your undying love given,
In faith to others did fill,
All the hearts touched by your hands,
With love that's growing still.

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