Another poem from my past…
Note the play on the sands of time… I was so proud of myself when I thought up this title.
The Hands of Time
I remember him well, His broad hands holding me, His deep voice lulling me to sleep, The promise of the world in his eyes,
I remember him well, But most of all I remember those hands, The hands of my protector
I remember him well, His strong hands showing me what I had failed to see, His deep voice breaking as he told me how much more it hurt him than me, The hint of a tear in his eyes,
I remember him well, But most of all I remember those hands, The hands of my discipliner
I remember him, His staunch hands holding me back from what I needed to do, His deep voice yelling driving me to the brink of madness, The hurt that came crawling out of his eyes,
I remember him well, But most of all I remember those hands, The hands of my jailer
I remember him well, His hardened hands weathered in the winds of times, His deep voice laughing at the witty remarks I made, His eyes reflecting knowledge far beyond my reach,
I remember him well, But most of all I remember those hands, The hands of my guide.
I remember him well, His frail hand trembling as he clung to life, His deep voice raspy as he strained to speak, The tears in his eyes that had long been dried out,
I remember him well, But most of all I remember those hands, The hands of my Hero.
