A Touch Is Enough

Slipping fingers
a palette touch.
To bring me life
a hand’s enough.

Touched heart I
put into dreams
of what I felt to
not forget peace.

Laced fingertips
in with my own
I remember its
sensation sewn.

Come with me,
my heart carry.
As we grow old
in body weary.

Slip do colors I
project in tones
where a picture
I have is home.

I beg to leave it,
my spite behind.
It flies from me,
warmth I find.

What color shall
we bathe in soft?
To quinch anger,
for to send aloft.

Spoil me shall I
request it again?
A hand to touch,
yours my friend.

Published by JW

Attempting to find peace with the paradoxes of the world. View all posts by JW

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: