Hand I Hold

The hand I hold
is the hand of love
when people see me anywhere.
The hand that steadies me
when storm clouds appear.
The hand that wipes away
the tears I want to hide.
The hand I hold
is the hand of love
tender soft and warm.
The hand that mends
and helps time heal
any wanton sore.
The hand that comforts
when tragedies come to pass.
The hand I hold
is the hand of love
and will be with me
until the day I die.

29 January 2011

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!