The night was darker than most
As she swept the porch, again alone
She felt the heat of the night, heavy
Remembering passions of the past
Memories she tried to sweep away
But the pull to them were much too great

She wore a light cotton dress, nothing more.
The summer breeze blew between the buttons
Occasionally causing the fabric to billow
Cooling the perspiration between her breasts
And stirring the fabric over her nipples,
Reminding her of the caress of her lovers mouth.

He was the only love she ever had, would ever have
He made each and every inch of her feel beautiful
Each moment was filled with respect and kindness
Every second shared was full of passionate romance
When he died, part of her liveliness died too
Her body was left with aches that would never be cured.

Evenings brought the joy and the pain of her memories.
She stood quietly for a moment looking into the black night
Then resumed her sweeping, noticing her weathered hands,
She smiled remembering the years he’d spent holding them
And how in the end he had even loved her wrinkled hands
And again she hoped the loneliness would end in her sleep

13 thoughts on “HER HANDS

  1. Reblogged this on Primal Night's and commented:
    This poem was written with a very prolific and talented poet who goes by the handle Hastywords. She writes beautiful poetry and I was fortunate enough to write with her. I hope everyone will have a look at her blog. I think that its visually the most beautiful site on wordpress. She is an artist in every respect. She also has a very moving piece she wrote about when she was raped as a young woman that is very powerful you might have to dig to find it but it’ worth the time and you will enjoy everything along the way. She is a wonderful poet as well as a courageous and beautiful person. Please take time to visit her site she has something for everyone. Thank you Hasty. Hugs.


  2. Very sad! Very beautiful! Very romantic! People and memories are a huge part of our lives! Love your poetry!


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