Thirty seven beads on a string,
Brown and black grip on a wrist;
Given to me at love feast
O yes you did, and my heart did spring.
After all these running years,
I still have your hand band on;
It bends, springs back in fun
All your images by elasticities.
What a valuable talisman to me,
All the time it keeps me safe;
Feeling your presence in myself
With a hand band you gave to me.
All the time it keeps me warmth,
Thirty seven beads without a fault;
Perched within it,
Is a repeating reflection of your hidden outlook.