The Kiss (Part I)

[belle ringer]

The Kiss

I could smell
your sweet breath,
more fragrant
than infinite dreams,
as your lips
hovered
from heaven,
to mere inches
above mine.
I could not look
at the smouldering
twilight in your eyes,
nor could I
tear myself away.

Then I felt you,
with the gentle brush
of your lips,
softer than a shy,
errant wind,
a tender prelude
to a promise
that made me
want more.
I want
to drink
from you
every
single
drop
of
word
that your eyes
spoke of
until I drown
in your liquid pools
of unreason,
and sigh,
as I taste
the sky
in your kiss.

[Xamonas Chegwe]

This is an unrelentingly romantic poem. It is love without sex; tenderness without passion; idealism without reality.

The kiss you describe does not come across as a physical thing at all. It's more like a young girl's idea of a kiss; all soft, gentle, dry and downy. More like the kiss of a mother, than a lover. It's Romeo's (sorry, I can't think of a female equivalent off hand) chaste love for Rosalind, before he met Juliet.

I'd like to see things get a lot raunchier in part 2.;) Or maybe a cynical version of the same kiss from the man's point of view. It needs contrast.

Thank you for posting though, I hope you don't think I'm being too negative.

[Countess]

Not trying to steal your thunder but I wrote a poem a long time ago with the same name. I'm posting it here for comparison/contrast/interest's sake only. It's much shorter than yours.

The sweetest wine never tasted so good
as your ruby, red lips when placed upon mine,
those tender, soft, gentle roses
which graze against my face,
tracing circles in my cheeks,
caressing my skin,
blushing from the ecstasy I feel
when I am with you
wrapped in your arms
Forever.

[belle ringer]

@ Xamonas Chegwe: Not at all. In fact, I'd like to thank you and sincerely at that, for saying all the things you did.

@ Countess: I appreciate you sharing your work, comparison or not, it is very much welcome.

When I wrote this, I had to divide it in three parts because I thought it too long. Then again, our most memorable moments can never be expressed enough. That was how I felt at the time.

=)

[Countess]

Then again, our most memorable moments can never be expressed enough.

***

There is so much truth to that - or for me, sometimes I wonder if I could express 100% of it 100% correctly, could I be completely relieved of it? An overpowering, unceasing sentiment demands a sort of constant attention via frustration.

Hope that makes sense.

[genoveva]

Then I felt you,
with the gentle brush
of your lips,
softer than a shy,
errant wind,
a tender prelude
to a promise


What a sweet poem! I especially like the above lines. In confession, I had to look up the word "errant". What a great word, I'll have to try and use it:

"wandering, straying outside proper bounds, behaving wrongly"

nice.