Your Hand

Your fingers run along the surface of my skin

like cloud shadows passing across a field

I note their delicacy, their grace

as I feel their soft caress

and liken the sensation to a melody

A pianist's fingers you truly have


You massage my back as you hold me tight

and your hands become like an invisible womb

Fluid around me, stopping every pain

The rhythmic movements remind me of a cradle

And I'm rocking back and forth

In your blanket-like embrace


The planes of your palms

Are a floor of petals - smooth

and vast, encompassing emotions,

strength and yet gentleness

A heartfelt song of life

plays in the air they disturb


Your fingers interlace with mine

With the most wondrous, memorable feel

And the hand is your soul

Shining as our heartstrings entwine

The End

4 comments about this poem Feed