Gentle Hands

Published on 15 January 2026 at 10:28

I knew the world by mother-smell, 
By milk and fur and breathing near, 
By warmth that wrapped the dark in calm, 
And told my heart I belonged here.

 

Then iron cut the air in two,
Her scent was torn from nose and mind;
Cold hours smelt sharp, the floor smelt wrong,
And love was something left behind.

 

The cage knew fear, the bowl knew lack,
The water thin, the food just dust;
Too many cries, too many aches,
All noses thick with shared distrust.

 

My belly learnt the taste of want,
The day smelt long, the night smelt sore;
I dreamt of milk and safety-fur
While metal taught me less and more.

 

Then hands arrived that smelt of sky,
Of quiet things that do not bite;
Warm water washed the pain away,
The brush said soft, the bowl said right.

 

A girl came smelling flower-sweet,
Of milk and sun and gentle days;
She held me like my mother did,
And joy ran wild through tail and gaze.

 

New pack, new law of kindness learned,
New heartbeats close, new sleep made deep;
I taste my future full of trust,
And wag my whole small soul to keep.

 

(By John Shenton)