With These Hands, I Built My House
May my walls be strong enough to never fall

With These Hands, I Built My House
With these hands, I built my house,
Stone by stone, with sweat and grace,
Through days of toil, through nights of doubt,
I shaped this place, a sacred space.
Each nail I drove, each beam I laid,
A whisper of the dreams I crave.
From earth and sky, from sun and shade,
A refuge born from what I gave.
These hands, they’ve known the weight of life,
The ache of labor, the joy of birth,
Each scar a story, each line a strife,
Yet through it all, I built my worth.
This house, my fortress, stands so tall,
Not just of brick, nor wood, nor stone,
But of the love that held it all,
A place where heart and soul have grown.
With these hands, I built my house,
A home, a haven, carved from dreams,
A place where peace and warmth espouse,
Where hope and love forever gleam.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️


Comments (1)
A great poem of a dream of all.