A family is like a hand,
silent oaths form a solid band.
Rare roles print on every finger,
bad times fade while love still lingers.

Index leads as wise as can be,
points out fears so all eyes can see,
flaps around if plans go astray,
connects with thumb to say “okay.”

Thumb is strong, always goes the length,
assists with grip to show off strength,
comforts infants, rests in their mouth,
silences cries, erases pouts.

Pinky is young, runt of the pups,
helps gain control, while holding cups.
A gambler, loves to take quick bets,
entwined until all stakes are set.

Spunky middle, hard to control,
rebel by nature stands alone,
rude to many, funny to some,
kisses a thumb, snaps just for fun.

Charming ring finger holds beauty,
gains attention with jewelry,
committal pledge, gives it her all,
honored with gems, always stands tall.

Strong linked home, divine love provides,
abundant care, comes from all sides.
Negative out, positive stands,
comfort in the palm of each hand.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Originally Published on January 19, 2021


Dancing to
the sounds of raindrops,
while they flood my
washed up shoes.
I can hear as
bells are ringing,
people run to
pay their dues.

I resist
but can not hide
as a tear
reaches my eye.
Sway around
move to the rhythm
of the droplets
falling down.

Failed to stop
I keep on moving
as my clothes
feel like the lake.
Never felt
crash so hard
my body shakes.

Felt a stillness
taking over
making this
my final dance.

Bitting hard
pierced my own lip
thanks to hope
received a chance.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

My poem ” Nobody ” was published on The Writers Club . I would like to thank their team for showcasing this piece.

Originally Published on January 2, 2021


Look past appearance.
Flesh, bones, blood, brain are human.
Unique heart, thoughts, soul.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy


A promise or bond
should never be broken.
Phrases that are said
cannot go unspoken.
Be careful with thoughts
that escape a shut mouth.
They could stick like glue,
fill peaceful ears with doubt.
The right choice of words
can make someone love you,
contrary to this,
the wrong ones can undo.

As people observe,
minds will jump to believe.
Ears hear the unseen
to cause what is perceived.
When trusting your eyes
to lead you towards truth,
grasp with all senses
to then stumble on proof.
Start to clear resents,
replace poor points of view.
Blissful joy is found,
following inner cues.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Originally Published on January 16, 2021

A Flower

The coldest of winter,
a flower had bloomed.
Quivered and shivered,
awaiting her doom.

A voice from inside,
whispered in her ear.
“Reasons you will find,
for why you are here.”

Hope warmed her inside,
kept her standing tall.
The weight of the snow,
had taken a fall.

A bee came along,
offered some advice.
“Let go of your strength,
you will not survive.
It’s too late for you,
you were due last spring,
your kind was all here,
your seed did not give.”

Flower simply nodded
then swiftly responded,
“I am here right now,
my life has a reason,
I will not give up ,
no matter the season,
I would not be here,
without a great purpose,
my life is a gift,
and never a burden.”

Along came a man,
with tears in his eyes,
his love was now fractured,
and said her good byes.
An honest mistake,
had made him so sorry,
he simply forgot,
their anniversary.
Turning to his left,
he noticed a flower,
felt better quite soon,
knowing it had power.
He held it with care,
and gave it a home,
then won back his love,
while claiming his throne.

Next to the window,
her vase set up high.
Objective fulfilled,
flower smiled with pride.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

Originally Published on January 18, 2021


Silent story
that goes untold,
muted glories
slowly unfold,
without a word
emotions sound,
screams go unheard,
fall to the ground.

Old souls spinning,
great fate repeats,
this time winning
all past defeats,
opened hands give
a love so pure,
divine love lives,
future secured.

Retracting time
as stillness sweeps,
a massive chime,
touches so deep,
whisked way past space
to then plant down,
upon a maze,
on flowered grounds.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Originally Published on January 7, 2021

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