Writing Poetry [WRITING FICTION - PART 2] - Sandpaper Hands | Penana

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#6

Sandpaper Hands

P.T.C

Apr 26, 2023

458

1 Min Read 136 Words

x

His hands are like sandpaper,

calloused by the hardships of Life's labors.462Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Y2LBtNvSr

Time has carved her tiny paths into his palms,

Yet, those sandpaper hands remain forever strong.

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His lips are quirked and uneven,

like the vagabond grin of a heathen.

Yet, one smile from his could shatter the world

as if all of Life's splendidness is suddenly unfurled.

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His eyes are dark liquid pools.

They do not sparkle like Etherian jewels;

instead, they hold a raging storm inside,

just as an ocean commands the tide.

***

When he holds me with those sandpaper hands

I am reminded every day of our future plans.

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When he kisses me with those uneven lips,

even the world seems to be eclipsed.

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And when he looks at me with those dark eyes,

I am reminded why I became his bride.

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Previous Issue >

Writing Poetry [WRITING FICTION - PART 2]

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Time Remaining

Submission Closed

Entries

#2 Falling Up Looking Down

#3 My inevitable ending

#4 Keep Me Afloat

#6 Sandpaper Hands

#8 Balete Drive

#9 Only A Couple Of Seconds

#10 The Green-eyed Queen

#11 Closing Remarks