Jeanne ~ Dancing Butterfly


Washing her clothes on a wash Board
Cooking and cleaning and Burning Wood
Her Strong hands held on tight
When her Children needed her through the Night

They held me when I was born
Touched me with so much warmth
Combed my Hair and washed my face
Played the Accordion and sang away
Holding my Hand walking down the street
As I grew older and was in need

Her Hands were held out to me
Hands with pain Arthritis she endured
Still cleaning and cooking and so much more
Holding my Children with the softness of her Hands
Waving goodbye when my Grandfather passed

Clutched in Prayer with her Rosary Beads
Crying down on her knees
I will always remember the day she passed
Touching my Grandmother’s Beautiful Hands