The Kiss I Miss Poem by David Keig
That kiss, that kiss
That childlike kiss
That pecky on the cheek kiss
That I am here kiss
That who the hell cares kiss
That kiss, that kiss I miss
Kiss Me Poem by Ernestine Northover
Kiss me and make it seem better,
Kiss me and quiet my heart,
I never once asked for a letter,
Stating you wanted to part.
Kiss me and declare you were wrong dear,
Kiss me and confirm it’s okay,
Say all those things that I so want to hear,
And wipe all my tears away.
Kiss me and let’s stay together,
Kiss me and pour out the wine,
Sit with me on my sofa of leather,
And say that everything will be fine.
Kiss me and tell me you love me,
Kiss me with passion to spare,
Don’t think of leaving, that is my plea
And also my ardent prayer.
Kiss me, I need you so deeply,
Kiss me, what more can I say,
But with reality looming before me,
This dream has just melted away.
The Song Of Despair Poem by Pablo Neruda
You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time.
In you everything sank!
It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.
Pilot’s dread, fury of a blind diver,
turbulent drunkenness of love,
in you everything sank!
A White Rose Poem by John Boyle O’Reilly
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips
Colored Toys Poem by Rabindranath Tagore
When I bring to you colored toys, my child,
I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water,
and why flowers are painted in tints
– -when I give colored toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance
I truly now why there is music in leaves,
and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth
– -when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands
I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers
and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice
– -when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling,
I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light,
and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body
– -when I kiss you to make you smile.
A Poet’s Death Is His Life Iv Poem by Kahlil Gibran
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens. There in the suburb stood an old hut heavily laden with snow and on the verge of falling. In a dark recess of that hovel was a poor bed in which a dying youth was lying, staring at the dim light of his oil lamp, made to flicker by the entering winds. He a man in the spring of life who foresaw fully that the peaceful hour of freeing himself from the clutches of life was fast nearing. He was awaiting Death’s visit gratefully, and upon his pale face appeared the dawn of hope; and on his lops a sorrowful smile; and in his eyes forgiveness.
He was poet perishing from hunger in the city of living rich. He was placed in the earthly world to enliven the heart of man with his beautiful and profound sayings. He as noble soul, sent by the Goddess of Understanding to soothe and make gentle the human spirit. But alas! He gladly bade the cold earth farewell without receiving a smile from its strange occupants.
He was breathing his last and had no one at his bedside save the oil lamp, his only companion, and some parchments upon which he had inscribed his heart’s feeling. As he salvaged the remnants of his withering strength he lifted his hands heavenward; he moved his eyes hopelessly, as if wanting to penetrate the ceiling in order to see the stars from behind the veil clouds.
And he said, ‘Come, oh beautiful Death; my soul is longing for you. Come close to me and unfasten the irons life, for I am weary of dragging them. Come, oh sweet Death, and deliver me from my neighbors who looked upon me as a stranger because I interpret to them the language of the angels. Hurry, oh peaceful Death, and carry me from these multitudes who left me in the dark corner of oblivion because I do not bleed the weak as they do. Come, oh gentle Death, and enfold me under your white wings, for my fellowmen are not in want of me. Embrace me, oh Death, full of love and mercy; let your lips touch my lips which never tasted a mother’s kiss, not touched a sister’s cheeks, not caresses a sweetheart’s fingertips. Come and take me, by beloved Death.’
Then, at the bedside of the dying poet appeared an angel who possessed a supernatural and divine beauty, holding in her hand a wreath of lilies. She embraced him and closed his eyes so he could see no more, except with the eye of his spirit. She impressed a deep and long and gently withdrawn kiss that left and eternal smile of fulfillment upon his lips. Then the hovel became empty and nothing was lest save parchments and papers which the poet had strewn with bitter futility.
Hundreds of years later, when the people of the city arose from the diseases slumber of ignorance and saw the dawn of knowledge, they erected a monument in the most beautiful garden of the city and celebrated a feast every year in honor of that poet, whose writings had freed them. Oh, how cruel is man’s ignorance!
Your Words Of Love Poem by Marieta Maglas
I have seemingly missed your words of love,
Those words that were written in the sand
And erased by the first wave.
Do you remember, my love?
I have enclosed them hermetically
With that last kiss.
And, after that,
And another exotic beach
And another feeling, autumnal feeling,
Of another ostensible seemingly love
Fulfilled my nothingness…
Among corals and shells,
Dried by the winds of the sea,
I awake in following my lost steps,
Taken by the waves
And redirected to the great unknown in the sea,
That great eternal…..
I still love you,
I love you more, miss you more.
Yes, I still miss you
And I realize that all I can do now
Is to lodge near the moan of the sea sand,
Which feels like a silk slipped worn-out dress,
When I touch it.
And slantingly I elect the oblivion,
I want to kiss again and again
Your gray-haired temple,
But, in reverting, I receive only
The kiss of our child…
Love’s Philosophy Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another’s being mingle-
Why not I with thine?
See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea; –
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?
April Rain Song
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.
The Kiss Poem by Sara Teasdale
I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.
For though I know he loves me,
To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.