The Touch of Your Hand

The touch of your hand so gentle, but strong;  
Conveys to my heart, things my mind,
      can’t understand.
Sultry summer night, with a soft relaxing breeze.
Lazy rainy afternoons, with nothing to do.
It’s just washed cotton sheets, all crisp and cool.
A lovely purple flower, red headed vixen, or sexy lips;
   taking you on journey’s you’ve never been.
It’s laughter from children playing in the next room.
A reassuring smile; from the front row, as you speak.
The healing comfort of hands, on a fevered brow.
A hot fire burning on a cold blistery day.
It’s an ease and peace, much like coming home,
       but to one, I’ve never known.
It’s your favorite dessert with no calories; for free.
Ice cream, chocolate, cherry and mounds of cool whip.
It’s a hug from a friend when you’re feeling bereft
Light house shining brightly, thru the storms of life.
It’s jumping in piles of freshly raked leaves.
Butterfly kisses, from your children’s lips on cheek.
It’s a compliment from a stranger when you think,
  you look like a mess.
Restful slumber at night with peacefully sweet dreams
It’s all these pleasures wrapped into one;
 the touch of your hand so gentle, but strong.