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Kisses

Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?

How soft is this one, how subtle this is,

How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is,

As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice;

How this one clings and how that uncloses From bud to flower in the way of roses;

And this through laughter and that through weeping Swims to the brim where Love lies sleeping;

And this in a pout I snatch, and capture That in the ecstasy of rapture,

When the odorous red-rose petals part That my lips may find their way to the heart Of the rose of the world, your lips, my rose.

But no song knows The way of my heart to the heart of my rose.

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Arthur Symons

Arthur William Symons (28 February 1865 – 22 January 1945), was a British poet, critic and magazine editor.
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