These fragile hands
They carved our lives
Toiled and tilled the land
Weathered storms to thrive
Ensured we survived.
In dreams we built in stone
Sodhouses we were to call home
These weathered palms
Supported and grew
Maintained our farm
Brought strength anew
Enabled hope to shine through.
Prairie-land homesteaders
Mid-west pioneers.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Image from Wikimedia- creative commons labelled for reuse.
For d’Verse.

Looking back I am amazed how our ancestors’ “fragile hands” survived. Nice sound to your Chaucerian stanzas using short metrical lines.
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This is a nice tribute to your ancestors and was fun to read.
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Love the dichotomy in those first lines- that fragile hands “carved our lives.”
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thankyou.
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Oh the struggles you can see. There is something special about the pioneers…
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