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Ten grubby little fingertips

    Are washed with loving care.

Tiny hands will stretch upwards,

    Seeking things to share.

 

Hands that want to touch and feel

    Those new things all around.

Hands that seek those things above

    And those things on the ground.

 

Hands that haven’t done much work -

    So smooth to human touch.

There are many years of work ahead;

    Till now they’ve not done much.

 

A small hand nestling in Mum’s hand -

    You’re walking off to school

But tomorrow you’ll be all grown up

     And hand-holding's not "cool".

POEMS FOR YOUNGER CHILDREN

By Josie Whitehead

Listening Page Younger Children

JOSIE'S POEMS