She Talks Of Hands Poem by Gordon R Menzies
She Talks Of Hands
She talks of hands
I speak of eyes, as though
I hadn't made a study of it all
surfaces and interiors, and
the moon bright mist of her eyes
shimmering with words
her lips race to make, while
I stand fascinated as a tourist
rapt before a potter's wheel
wanting everything on the shelf
but frozen, waiting for the next
wonder rising from her pliant clay
Monday, April 9, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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12/1/2024 12:25:22 PM # 1.0.0
