Take the hand of friendship,

Unclasping fingers you will find,

The lines of loving and of living

And the markings of the mind,

Behold the open book within.

Read the prophesies of past times

Embedded there at birth.

Observe sadness and the sorrows,

Trace the memories of mirth

From the Mount of Moon begin.

Trace, palmate predictions

Then, follow to the eyes,

The Chart of Life unflinching

With a look which seldom lies,

That's how to touch, beneath the skin.

(c)  ZYDHA HART  2004