Touch the hands of a carpenter
The hands will be rough and so strong
From working with timbers for years, O so long
The hands will be blistered and calloused
Squeeze the hands if you are so bold
The scars tell a story that needs no words to be told
A carpenter earns his bread by the sweat of his brow
With strong hands, he shapes rough wood Into beautiful shelters from the sun and the rain
He works long days despite aches and pain
When you are overburdened, tired, and scared
Hold the hand of the Carpenter from judea, that hot desert land
You will marvel at the power and strength that flows
From that Carpenter's hand!

Written for my granddaughter when their mother and dad (a carpenter) divorced

Ben V. Rodriguez