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 Id never known.
My body yielded to desires 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

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