More Than a Hand
As I grasped the cold of her palm I felt a gentle touch within my soul and I knew
I was holding more than a hand.
We stood with closed eyes and bowed heads as we listened to
the melodious echoes of the Atlantic hitting the southshores of a tiny Island
the wrestling sound of elements in the dark, I say "thank you Father" for I knew
I was holding more than a hand.
Easterly winds at 7 knots with temperatures in the 80's man is it hot
her hair obeying the forces of the atmosphere, a perfect scene for a portrait
a visual rendering, an ambiance, I smile cause I knew
I was holding more than a hand.
When heads lifted I noticed her immaculate spherical brown shapes of a full moon
perfectly sunken below each brow
In stages I release each fingertip and like virtue escaping the dishonored prophet
passion escaped my soul and it was then that I knew
I was holding more than a hand.
|