In Safe Hands

Soft pudgy palms

Yet to be studded

With the diamonds of age

Clutching a father’s arms, neck, side

That will graciously tolerate

Pre-Pubescent fists and blows,

Wringing of guilty fingers,

Band wearing,

Tattoo showing

Sleeve tearing,

Because one day they will

Pass you on from the arm

As you walk down the Aisle

To the arms of another

Lover