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Numberless the Kisses
Numberless the kisses upon her brow;
Falling soft as the blue rain of spring,
Luscious this garland of flowers and how
Lovely the fair lady, they enring
The fire and ocean of her now compose,
That most sacred melody of flesh;
Of souls mixing close as red to the rose;
Of loving every tender taken breath
Speechless her lips though a song in her soul,
Searching kisses know her everywhere
Stunning the storm that through the lady rolls,
Wild the high cries, from this lady fair
Copyright ©
Joseph Ardern
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