Spring 2011 Poetry Competition Second Prize

I Want to Hold Your Hand

Gwen Hobbis



You want to hold my hand?

Hangnails, brown spots, red knuckles and all?

Are you sure?

Well, I don’t think I am.


It reminds me of poor dear Gwen Berry,

dressed in her scarf and winter coat,

knitted hat pulled over thin grey hair,

towed along the high street

hand tight in her husband’s firm grip,

parked outside the window as he marched into our shop

and she gazed hopeless into – who knows what?


Business done, officiously efficient,

he hurries out to grasp her hand again,

and away to their next port of call.


‘In twenty years time, that will be us’

I’d say bleakly,

twenty years ago. 


Why don’t I hold your arm instead?

Wouldn’t that do just as well?


©2011 Gwen Hobbis

Gwen would love to hear what you think of her writing - email her now