YOUR HANDS

​

I looked upon my loved ones hands

As they rested on his knee

Brown and strong and hard they were

And they stirred strange thoughts in me.

I saw them on a baby

Clutching his mothers breast

I saw them on a dark haired boy

Trying to do his best.

I saw them when you started work

Down in a valley pit

I saw them black with coal dust

And how the work scarred it.

I saw them playing rugby

Scoring with the ball

Supporting a comrades shoulder

When he took a fall.

I saw it lifting beer

In a public house at night

I saw the bloody bandage 

After every fight.

And as I looked at your dear hands

I felt them on my skin

Bringing me such pleasure

That love comes flooding in.

One day your body will be cold

No more to fight and lust

And your brown hands will work no more

But crumble into dust.....

​

Copyright Jan Price