Healing Hands

I am a healer.
I have healing hands.

I massage love
back into ailing
heart and soul
of my lover.

Back into the overtired
exhausted broken body
of the one I love.

She came to me
for a moment of peace.

She came to me
for a feeling of security.

She came to me
to laugh and to cry.

She comes to me
to rest restore
the creative harmony
of a unique kindred soul.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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