Tiny Pious Hands

An amateur attempt but hope you like it.

hands my accomplice, hands my refuge
(her)hands are celebrants, upon my affections deluge
(her) hands I held, soft and white
day and night, with what delight.

hands that say, as they revel and play
(my) hands are potters on (her) hands of clay
(our) hands in hands, time's eternal sands
from hands to hands, go tidings so grand..
(her) hands are prayers, hands pristine pious
my hands they meet, hands glowing joyous.

(our) hands are hermits, hands divine
upon my hands are etched, songs of thine
(our) hands are hearts, as hands they meet
staying caressed, to never fleet....

these hands when they see
ethereal hands of thee
my hands come to know
where (my) hands are to be
hands are surreal, hands supine
wantan are hands, hands sublime

soon the hands would riven as shadows pale
would (my) hands wail,not sing like nightingale?
let not those be immured, her hands so frail
yet freeing her hands, mine hands do quail..
as hands, twin hands they lament and pain
tremble, quiver yet clasped in vain...
hands that wince and vow never again.......