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Read more poems by Robert Browning: Robert Browning Poems at Poetry X.

The moth's kiss, first!
Kiss me as if you made believe
You were not sure, this eve,
How my face, your flower, had pursed
Its petals up; so, here and there
You brush it, till I grow aware
Who wants me, and wide open I burst.

The bee's kiss, now!
Kiss me as if you enter'd gay
My heart at some noonday,
A bud that dares not disallow
The claim, so all is rendered up,
And passively its shattered cup
Over your head to sleep I bow.

Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 22 Nov 2009 1:33 AM | Viewed: 3826 times

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