Tuesday, November 27, 2012



The day will come when these old hands
Won't sip the morning coffee
Made just right

My prized old cup before me stands
And waits for other hands, but
That's all right.

They've had good times down here on earth,
For many, many years, but
What's it worth?

In times of grief or times of mirth,
They understand all pass to
Death from birth.

These old spotted hands have caressed
And held the hands of untold
Ladies fair.

And each and every one was blessed
To culminate a lovely
Sweet affair.

Soon these old weathered hands must rest
And things within me whisper
Is it time?

And most of all I feel twice blessed,
For knowing you has been and
Is sublime.

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