Anna and the French Kiss

As I wandered about the lush lawn In the gazing ball I glimpsed A breath-taking young woman with a touch of innocence In her soulful, violet eyes. I was mesmerized by her beauty And I had to look up to see that this vision was real. I did so slowly, and found her gazing a bit boldly Straight into my very soul. When she was sure she had bewitched me, She slowly turned and walked down the garden path Knowing that I would follow, meek as a lamb Into her lair. Into a secret garden she led me, This girl with the violet eyes and beautiful thick hair Which she started to unpin and let fall, Cascading down her back like a waterfall of shining waves. When we reached the center of the garden, She turned and waited for me To come close enough to see the rise and fall of Her beautiful breasts, corseted to their full advantage. Though they were lovely, it was the eyes that held me. She ran a light finger along my lips then pressed it to her own. It was then I noticed the fullness of her mouth, lips slightly parted And silently beckoning me to join my lips with hers. And so I did, and the kiss that ensued was Warm, and sensuous, and became urgent as it continued. I felt her tongue and tasted her sweet breath and thought I might faint at the passion that coursed like lightning through my body. And without notice, it ended, and I opened my eyes And found myself standing along in the garden My very body still on fire with the electricity Of that kiss. In a daze, I stumbled back toward the party, And upon seeing my unsteadiness, my host Invited me into the manor to cool myself Out of the heat of the sun. As we walked through the massive doors, I glanced up, and over the enormous marble mantle Was a portrait of the girl with the large violet eyes, And the cascade of dark hair, and the lips I still felt upon my own. I asked my host shakily, “Who is that”? He replied with a shudder that she was Anna, His betrothed, who had been lost on the sea And had never been recovered. Years later I wonder, was she ghost or spirit, Was she there that only I could see? The passion, the taste of her lips, Still electrifies my body and soul as I dream of Anna’s French kiss. Written 8.22.21