She

It was her kiss
that sent a shaft of light
into confounding blackness where the dead
would hold their rites of cold fraternity--
as if the border of that town were there
to mark a private paradise.

 

Her kiss, I found enough
to counteract those graceless thoughts
that swept across the meadow of my mind
like fresh cold winds
intruding on an evening stroll.
I sought her there, of course;
I needed something cosmic,
something of the world outside
to pull me from the pit of disillusionment.

 

I think she knew that there would be
no waking in the idle laughter that she heard--
no sighing softness under her caress,
(should she be bold enough to touch cold flesh)
and so she took my hand, and then she kissed me!
Though I knew her not, her warmth,
the fullness of her lips
brought joy beyond exuberance, for then
the blistered morn in radiance
could magnify the sun,
while she and I and all the blessed earth
were one.
                            ~

 

Reviews

[Valentine]

Funny how we react to special moments in our lives. Valentine

[Tom]

Though brief in time that magical moment transcends all indifference !

Marvellously inner heartfelt poetry Dean, emotive and expressive to sublime effect !

[Dean]

I continue to be amazed at the attention this little very mediocre poem is getting. Thank you!
read moreI continue to be amazed at the attention this little very mediocre poem is getting. Thank you!

[Jebat Serawak]

Smooth poem. Fulls of imagery and some how brings back memory. I can almost hear your voice when reading this poem.

[Dean]

thanks. I appreciate the read.

[barleygirl]

Beautifully, creatively thought-provoking & intense! I absolutely love reading a poem about physical touch that brings in myriad other aspects of life & feeling (not limited to physical response). I love the way you've brought in a dozen contrasting responses & reveries, all prompted by this kiss. I love that you waited until the last stanza to delight your readers with the actual physical description (gracefully stated) of the kiss. This poem doesn't feel like a smooth laminar flow, but rather, a turbulent mix of reactions . . . I really like this, becuz that's how life really is, most of the time.

[Dean]

thank you so very much

[The Twin Arenas]

This is nice, Dean. Nothing is wasted here, and nothing superfluous is added. The lengthier a piece gets, the more language used, the more difficult that wire is to walk. Well done.

[Dean]

thank you
I appreciate the read

[David Scott]

A narrative love poem set within the frame of a mature, astute, masculine appreciation. I enjoyed the cycle of the verses. You penned a natural rise and fall of emotion following the stanzas and the celestial rhythms within the poetry itself.
An enjoyable read!

[Dean]

Thank you, David

[olla]

I have been gone too long.. I forgot how elegant your writing is.. and I think the title is perfect... it allows all of us girls to imagine that... she.. is me..

[Dean]

thank you so much

[Dean]

In re=reading thi8s poem from long ago, I have had some regrets about the title, since it referred to no specific person, but each time I go to change it, something pulls me back. I guess this is another oddity about poetry...that it continues to find ways to teach and uncover questions, even when one is not looking for them. I think this poem will continue to nag at me.

[wordman]

well mr dean it is a pretty good poem
and I enjoyed the trip

[Dean]

thank you, sir

[wordman]

it was my pleasure dean

[M.E.Lyle]

I've got to agree whole heatedly with x on this. A love poem really, really worth reading.
I'm reminded of a special kiss once long ago.

[Dean]

Odd how I keep still getting reactions to this piece. Must be better than I thought! :-)

[M.E.Lyle]

I think it must be.