Sweet dainty hands with candle-like fingers
Nails trimmed enough to titillate one in sight
Palms so velvety smooth like a softy feather
Not a vein that spells a hard day's work
But behind such fragile look are the times
When my hands are stuck in the groove
To burn the candles at both ends with a goal
Never to grouch and rant with work in tow
Done in! Done out! Done up! Still a mighty mite!
Though smarting from pain my hands never halt
With faith they adhere to the magnitude of the task
All done to my taste seldom they fluff to my dismay
With pleasure I give the warmth of love and care
Never in thirst to replenish what is lost as they work
Lavishly I nourish them with cream for hydration
Thus my hands belie the long times of harness
