Arms

Arms
-By Kepler
My arms are like a skeleton key,
A pair of arms to mach the seasons.
Pale like snow in the winter,
brown like the cracked earth in the summertime,
Flame red from countless sunburns that matches the hue of the leaves,
blooming to all their glory in the spring.
My arms are like a skeleton key,
a pair of arms to match every task,
strong enough to split wood,
shatter glass,
and bend metal.
Yet gentle enough to carve wood,
blow glass,
and support a worried friend.