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

His hands are like sandpaper,

calloused by the hardships of Life's labors.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ9psyATJYL

Time has carved her tiny paths into his palms,

Yet, those sandpaper hands remain forever strong.

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUEQdeHT3aH

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.

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVjSREzSe8P

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.

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1i4GQmLRYn

When he kisses me with those uneven lips,

even the world seems to be eclipsed.

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa4sBuRfxGY

And when he looks at me with those dark eyes,

I am reminded why I became his bride.

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfh03Y9es11

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSr9EbNYFxO

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg6hodZlNRQ

724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXkKG1bkTzA

ns216.73.217.39da2