Gloved Hands

The poem is intended to break rhythmic pattern, and to then find it again. Enjoy!

A kiss of yours upon my gentle hand
I await but fear it never is to be
Placed carefully and kindly on the ungloved land
Forever it seems that I wait for thee

As spiders spin undisturbed webs of silk
And the clock hands cease to move no more
I sit, I wait, I plead for death
But I fear its lost way to my door

For eternity is too long to await
A simple kiss put firmly on my flesh
Sooner it seems that heavens golden gates
Will admit yet another guest

And it may seem I want from you too much
Yet who can lay blame to a lover's call
The need, the lust, the human touch
Seems likely a pull to us all

Oh still that night, when winds chilled the bones
You pulled me close and whispered in my ear
And in the night, you showed me how not to feel alone
A haunting memory that stowed away for years

So left to wait, i sit in hopes someday
You may come back to unglove that gentle hand
And lay upon it your kiss so sweet, and may
You promise me to never leave again.