HER WARM HANDS IN MY DIRE NEED

Written by: Andrew Crisci

Her warm hands in my dire need,
melted my coldness and made me very happy to thrive and live;
words of proverbs became my creed...
oh, she spoke them to lead such a heart of stone to forgive!


Darkness replaced light as her tender voice 
diminished anger with compassionate eyes 
saying, " Sweet boy, grow free of resentment...
find in me that faithful friend with selfless intent. "


Her warm hands in my dire need
soothed and healed my wounds of hurt teen;
I ran to her when others turned away,
they did not see how sadness ended my day.  


This morning I rang her doorbell around ten,
her doorsteps were decorated with sympathy cards, candles and flowers,
but the drawn shades wouldn't let the sun in;
a middle-age man leaning on a steel cane came forward with tearful eyes.