The Kiss - Poem by glorious alice
I tilted to die
As Her warm hands clutched my chest
The smell of her made me flattered
I felt the walls of my room to be blown up
The existing soul mingled with her melting eyes
Her toe crept from my angle
My flesh were like cantle in a fire
I were as if a dry olive leaf is to its wild wind
Her hug sang thousand of silent hymns to
My unsleeping heart.
As being thrown on to the rose garden
I begged to break the wall of my shyness
In order to ease her to stamp
My fragile soul.
The kiss was approaching
The lips composed my face in to April’s sun
That brought me to the deep chill drowning
I realized –that
Would not her shelter have had long enough?
The holding of hands was needed
For my finest day’s sleep.
Then…I could feel that
I died with an utter will.
Comments about The Kiss by glorious alice
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You