Hands by Bob MacKenzie You opened the door And lit lamps with your eyes What fire your eyes could rear And your hands like a gardener Planting a rose Wandered over me, pleasing me Rearing wild rose And I built up my house with your mind. When we closed the door And we lowered the lights In dusk our eyes would meet And your hands like a gardener Raising the flame Wandered over me, making me Wildflower tame And you ate with the host of my mind. Now I've closed the door And I've shut off the lights But still your eyes are here And your hands like a gardener Plucking a rose Wander over me, teasing me Lighting old glows 'Though I've emptied the house of your mind. And your hands like a gardener Casting a seed Wandered over me, pleasing me Lighting the rose But I've weeded the house of your mind. published: Origins, First Issue, Fourth Volume, 1973 |