Hands touch,
the first language of love,
united hands, smiles.
A trace
from primordial times,
eternal,
symbol and connection
between wish and realization.
Each finger a flower's petal
with its unique shape
color and fragrance.
***
Your hands’ colored touch
blossoming in the chambers of my heart,
my skin soaking its singing dance like a thirsty desert soaking rain
keeping,
protecting,
deeper,
nicer,
lasting longer than Altamira,
Tassili n'Ajjer and Laas Gaa'l caves’ paintings
seeding me
with the peace of heaven.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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"my skin soaking its singing dance"... that is so beautiful..I wanted to keep soaking my eyes in that image. This poem indeed shows how hands speak the language of love (the first time or any other time). Loved the touch of art here too - as well as flowers. Beautiful poetry. Thank you for this entry.
~ Nicolette
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Oh, this makes me sigh, what a beautiful poem about hands,
"Each finger a flower's petal
with its unique shape
color and fragrance."...
"Your hands’ colored touch
blossoming in the chambers of my heart,"..
there are so many beautiful lines throughout this poem,
I can't highlight them all here
Good luck in Nicolette's contest
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Wow
U Did an amazin job with this poem good luck in the contest.. i loved the way you did this poem and its marvelous and wonderful write..well written and expressed through out..keep da ink flowin..u have gorgeous talent...
Your hands’ colored touch
blossoming in the chambers of my heart,
my skin soaking its singing dance like a thirsty desert soaking rain
keeping,
protecting,
deeper,
nicer,
lasting longer than Altamira,
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