The moth's kiss, first!
Kiss me as if you made believe
You were not sure, this eve,
How my face, your flower, had pursed
Its petals up; so, here and there
You brush it, till I grow aware
Who wants me, and wide open I burst.

The bee's kiss, now!
Kiss me as if you enter'd gay
My heart at some noonday,
A bud that dares not disallow
The claim, so all is rendered up,
And passively its shattered cup
Over your head to sleep I bow.

Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 2569 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Robert Browning
Poem: In A Gondola

Poem of the Day on:
Nov 15 2003
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