Fresh Lipstick Kisses Poem by Ian Bowen

Equally spaced poplar trees
on both sides of the lane, grew
between hedges of red and black berries.
The grass verges, damp with morning dew,
now dripped in an early sun.
Soon, I would arrive at your house,
where you would welcome me
with a fresh-lipstick kiss.

Equally spaced steps
on both sides of the hall, led
to your girlie, pink bedroom.
Your mood, tinkled with giggles,
and I saw my face in your eyes.
Later, I would leave,
where the dark shadows of poplars...

bowed in an evening breeze.