Two hands

You’re standing there and glowing green,

and I want to show you everything.

To take your hand and lead you round,

To see my house, my stomping ground.

But when I reach to hold your hand

you just don’t seem to understand,

to make contact palm to palm,

is friendship, not impending harm.

And so, before the wonderous things,

I need to show you what this means.

Unfold my fingers and gently touch,

before we start that stronger clutch.

I point to smiles and eyes and heart,

and speak so softly to impart,

that holding hands is just a thing

that people do to bring you in.

Your eyes blink once and twice again

and as my fingers nestle in

I pull you gently, to my side

and then imply a matching stride.

Your hand, it flutters just a little

but it's so warm as it settles.

And in the moment where our eyes meet,

I realise it is complete.

That of all the scintillating things,

the dogs and bugs and birds with wings,

the many wonders end to end,

I’ve shown you how to be a friend.