A hand reached out in time of need,
Rain in time of drought.
Fingers interlaced, accede,
Bud blooms from planted seed.
A hand reached out, come what may,
In time of loss, of sorrow.
Transfixed, hand in glove. To stay?
Or would, once more, in time, away?
A hand reached out, no more the poorer
A descendent finding family.
To face, to feel, to touch, be surer,
With every waking hour. Purer?
A hand reached out to touch the glass
Through it could be seen the far horizon.
‘Twas a masterpiece from the past,
It’s value translucent. Would it last?
A hand reached out in time of need
Sun in time of flood.
Fingers interlaced, accede,
The town survived, the rain recedes.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by sensualism
I love writing - poetry mainly, but the odd thought or story may find its way to the page as prose. I'd love to contribute to poetry and writing groups near my home by the sea but the dreaded clock seems to beat me most times. I do happen to contribute to https://cosmofunnel.com, a poetry website with 'panache'. Check it out for a different take on things.
View all posts by sensualism
