Your Loving Arms

You wrapped your arms around each one and held them in a way,
That showed you really loved them, and would keep them every day,
I never really noticed until pictures of your life,
Were gathered all, a child, a student, mother and a wife.

In every single picture if another soul was near,
Your loving arm and hand surrounded them with touch so dear,
There is no better evidence of what we know is true,
These beautiful kept images, the essences of you.

The first a black and white image when you a child of eight,
Your father crouched beside you dressed in fin’ry of the date,
Your arm and hand are draped around his neck and you just seem,
As you and smiling father are relaxed and in a dream.

And one by one, with brothers, sons, your daughter or with Dad,
You hold each one around the waist and smile for you are glad-
That you are with the people in your life you truly love,
And you could not be happier if angels sang above.

Yet more and more with grandchildren your hands just wrap around,
And cuddle everyone with gentle love that knows no bound,
And as they grew you saw the photos each and every one,
Each child not held, enveloped in your arms and having fun.

And as time passed abilities would lessen with the age,
Your walking ceased, talking decreased, but you were now our sage,
Until your very final day you took our hand, it’s true,
And stoked with your fine fingers ours for this was love to you.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 7, 2010