Your Hand - By James Cecil

Your Hand

I tossed, restless, in the dark, deaf night.
From cool crisp sheets,
my clammy frame drenched our bed.
Your voice cut short the spiral…
“Would you like me to hold your hand”?
I was that who you touched,
I was frantic and you gave me rest.


- Written by: James Cecil

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

just stopping by to say hey

 

Blogger Templates | Design by Make Money Online | Privacy Policy | Related Websites and Blogs