A Warm Hand Poem by Arno Le Roux

Sometimes the part most unlikely as we stand
It is not a mouth or breast but rather a hand
Is an underrated part that is holding slow
A means for her troubles to ease and let go

Warm with understanding meeting her goal
Hand touch skin and somehow reach her soul
It's the reach your hand her hair brush clear
It's the way you turn her mind from chaos steer

Your closeness her emotions closer brave
Shoulder touch instant her wild mind to save
That is when you see her soul running naked stark
Drowns her sorrows follow light iside her dark

Away on a level she managed to hide all day
Life's confusing maize teach us to play
Chaos with a single touch on her soul's border
Into her neck from her shoulder create order

Arno Le Roux 20l4