His Arms
She looked at him and smiled…while he embraced her as they sat.
“I love your arms she she whispered…have I ever told you that?”
“I like to think I am enchanting.,” he kidded… “that I am filled with grace and charm.
but I have to ask,” as he looked at them… “what’s so special about my arms.?”
“They are hairy, they swing when I walk,
most of the time they just hang down by my side…”
She smiled as she massaged them… “They do much more than that.” she sighed…
“These arms hold me when I laugh…they hold me when I cry.
sometimes I’ve felt like they were wings…and when I’m in them we can fly.”
“These arms have embraced the joys in my life…and on the other hand
at moments I’ve been sad…these arms seem to understand.”
“When you put these arms around me it immediately soothes my heart…
I can’t count the times they’ve held me together…
the times they’ve kept me from falling apart.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without these arms.” she said…
“For wherever the two of us roam…
whenever I am in these arms…
I know that I am home.”
He looked at her and smiled…
“No, you’ve never mentioned that…”
and then…
He asked as he embraced her…
“Could you tell me why…again?”
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