Her hand rests snug in mine
synchronized fingers slip
into perfect symmetry
of interlocking flesh and bone.
Lightly knuckles fold
an affectionate clamp.
Tips softly caress then settle,
crux over hinge.
Her delicate palm,
lays engulfed upon
my cold slab
weathered, welted, rough worn.
My hand feels older than I
as it guiltily draws warmth
through the touch of her cushioned skin.
The difference balances
as both blend as one
joining in simple physical unity;
the weave our hearts sew.
The sweep of road,
a gradient line
The stretch of a mile.
Few cars hug the rising bend
in the morning;
And in between the bulk of day
scarce are the travellers
passing that way.
It is there I found myself
sauntering with time to kill,
upon the wood speckled hill.
A dangling limb of weathered spruce
I snapped off and put to good use.
A gentry gentleman ambling
through his claim
with stick in hand,
a worthy cane.
While not a sinner,
Nor other voice sound,
but chirp and whistle
of birdish talk.
For awhile it belonged
just to me
Money tight? well this won’t cost you a thing.
Because you are all so fabulous and cool
I’m giving my poetry book away for free to everybody in the world.
It’s called “There is one here for you” It is available from the 27th, 28th of February and 1st of March.
on the link or paste the above in your search bar and it will take you directly to it.
There is a free kindle reader app available too in most countries sites just above my book, oh and to the right.
So, even if you don’t want it, you can get plenty of other free books with the app.
hope you all enjoy it, if not, well you’re all still groovy.
Hindsight’s the sister of regret
“What ifs” tease attempts to forget.
Random objects mirror moments of reflection
Dejection’s the brother of rejection.
The perfect someone does exist
it’s our standards that are flawed
Wilting shadows weep for the company of night
lacking comprehension they only exist where there’s light