The Kiss
As I woke from Slumber's bliss,
I turned to love to steal a kiss.
My love she's gone she's slipped the night,
through cracks in window left untight.
I kicked my covers, I flew the stair,
out the door to Autumn's air.
The fog she's thick as thieves,
the moon has filled this hollow's eve.
This path I take I know too well,
treat or trick I cannot tell.
My gait I move with haste, I know this night,
have heard it's lore of ancient rite.
To steal a soul for to keep,
this Reaper's grim as reapers reap.
Alas I find the gate and scale this wretched hill,
it's chambers full of death doth fill.
And there it is this altered stone,
the Angel came, her soul is gone.
As she lay in death's sweet pose,
in her hand a single rose.
Her skin so fair, her raven hair,
in her eyes left death's cold stare.
I turned away, I dare not look,
after taking all I took.
And as I fled in drunken flight,
I lost myself in dark of night.
I passed through Misty's haze,
and found myself in Satan's maze.
And soon found I a naked tree,
it's bed of leaves they beckoned me.
Come now and dream a dream,
and so I did as pleasant seemed.
When my dream broke the November morn,
I turned to love her kiss so warm.
9/21/18
Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment