In The Palm Of His Hands
Posted on: 20 October 2006
- In: poetry
- 9 Comments
His hands dig deep into my heart
They curl around and squeeze it tight
My heart it throbs and beats within his grasp
Willing I am, no struggle, no fight
His hands reach darkly into my soul
And stroke my essence, my nub, my core
Silently I’m screaming, I belong to you
Take my being, take me more
His hands brush gently across my form
And caress like a butterfly my skin
A fire burns beneath his touch
My womb is crying out within
His hands run frenzied through my hair
And pull me sharply towards his face
Captivated and drowning in his eyes
Yielding to his wild embrace
His hands search boldly within my depths
Arousing, beckoning, pleasure, desire
Leaving earth, welcoming heaven
Flying on wings in a chariot of fire
His hands rest gently in my own
His strength, his power, possess me still
Sleeping for now within his arms
For soon his hands will return of their own free will
Copyright 2006 Ann Raven
9 Responses to "In The Palm Of His Hands"
2 | brian
20 October 2006 at 02:39
Big hands….there is a saying I think.;)
Or is it how you use those hands. A Master’s hands can bring much joy and pain.
4 | brian
20 October 2006 at 11:45
Not that I have any experience in this sort of thing…but thank you. ;>)
7 | Liz
21 October 2006 at 12:09
Ouch… hot one and love it :).
A pleasure to read what’s in your mind Ann.
at home with ann 
20 October 2006 at 02:04
I know that for many of you this is not a new one, but it is one of my favourites and we all know whose enormous hands inspired me to write this one… I don’t think I have ever seen hands as big as his… mmmmmmmm