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FIRST
KISS
Inside
the gate he knelt to pick a
rose,
The color of my innocent
reserve.
I willed it back, the thrill
from head to toes;
To tell of it I did not have the
nerve.
He gently pressed the rose into
my hand;
I felt a tingle like I’d never
known.
My body yielded to desire’s
command;
I thought I was a woman fully
grown.
At first I was a blushing
neophyte,
A hesitant, untutored chrysalis,
But when his arms began to
circle tight,
My lips were moved to meet his
fledgling kiss.
First kiss of love, sweet
nectared floweret,
Your memory still lingers with
me yet.
~Copyright © 1998 Ruth Gillis~
Previously
published in the
January 1999 issue of Poets
At Work |
