Misty Hunter Poet Free verse

Hands

My hearts greatest desire
The one thing that I miss
Would you believe, is a pair of hands
Hands that were rough and calloused
	They had worked for all they had
Hands that smelled of tar and asphalt
	Honest deeds and long hours
Hands that folded in prayer along with mine
	They knew we were loved
Hands that held me close when I was scared
	Sometimes we need to cry
Hands that held me up to a whiskered face
	To give kisses and whisper secrets
Hands that picked me up when I fell
Ever so diligent, caring
Hands that reminded me I was safe
	They were never far away
Well look, I have fallen and I’m hurt
But those hands don’t pick me up
They’re gone, they’ve left, and I’m alone
I pick myself up
Hands that have been replaced
By others, but mostly my own

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