It's like driving a motor car
I slip in
It fits me like a glove
And then starts to start, no, rather it roars to life.
I confess it frightens me
I really want someone to hold my hand
I love to hold someones hand in the movies
And I want someone to hold my hand when I write poetry.
I deeply need to be soothed
And what better than a warm hand
Soothing and speaking hand to hand
Bringing the words up, then springing from my warm muzzle.