Holding onto thy palms*

 Holding onto thy palms,
Hands , fingers Thine
Into mine, clasped,
Can make me go along
With you, to any place,
Any time, even if you
For some reason,
Away move fingers Thine,

I know, you wilt make a come
Back at me, for have not me
Told you that story of Our love
Taking not us, only, but all
For a Holy ride, across all lows
All blows, all ebbs and all tides.

(*Note: the painting attached is received from a friend mine as a Gift.)


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