With hands that mold the earth, they shape our world anew,
Crafting dreams from clay, in colors bright and true.
Each touch a gentle dance, each movement pure and kind,
In every line and curve, a masterpiece we find.

Hands that heal the soul, with every gentle touch,
Mending broken spirits, with love that means so much.
In tender moments shared, when hope begins to wane,
These hands bring light and joy, erasing all the pain.

Hands that build our dreams, with strength and steady grace,
Lifting us to heights, where stars and skies embrace.
Each brick and beam a promise, each nail a silent vow,
To create a future bright, starting here and now.

Hands that hold our hearts, in times of joy and strife,
A constant source of comfort, throughout our fleeting life.
In every warm embrace, in every loving clasp,
These hands tell stories old, in their gentle grasp.