I want to hold your hand!
I reached over late, twilight,
Edging on morning light, to
Find your hand.
I needed your company on
The dream that was taking
Me to another land.
I saw images I wanted
To share with you and
Hold your hand.
I saw the dying flowers
In the Ninth Ward buried
In dry sand.
I walked among the music
Emanating from the homes
Sounding grand.
We walked together as the
Scene changed from NOLA
To another stand.
In quick sequence we skipped
To simple places that sowed
Seeds, growing plants.
Blossomed peonies, lilies of
The field, bright in coastal
Foggy June.
Swans, elephants, dolphins,
Lions, tigers, Africa, Artic,
Crying loons.
Niagara falls, Australian
Moon, Cape Town colors,
Scottish Troon.
We leaped and bound,
You and me, to a youthful
Fanciful tune.
All this happened to John,
Paul, George and Ringo’s plea
to hold hands.
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