The Poet's Kiss

[Blaise]

First, a little background. I live on the isle of Cape Breton, in Canada, recently, I've been through an emotional wood-chipper of an experience, i.e, the breakup of a relationship, this has seen me writing multitudes of verses and posting many on Facebook poetry sites, one of the people who began replying to these was a SarahA, from England, we began corresponding and added each other to our friend's lists, at some point I decided to send her a Leonard Cohen song, as we both consider Mr. Cohen a master, it was then that SarahA reluctantly told me that she is deaf, never more will she hear Mr. Cohen's lovely words. When I told her I was going to the May 2oth show in Glace Bay, Cape Breton, she asked if I would give Mr. Cohen a kiss for her and after the stunningly spectacular show that astounded me with its power and poignancy, I wrote this verse.

The Poet’s Kiss

I picked your kiss from the scarlet sky
as twilight drew its shade
I slipped it in my pocket
remembering promises that I’d made

The kiss was for a poet
that we both have come to love
who has traveled through the world below
in search of the one above

your kiss spoke softly to me
its wisdom to impart
as it nestled close and tenderly
to my hollow, haunted heart

It came with me, and I with it
to the dusky concert hall
where by and by onto to the stage
strode the poet strong and tall

It sat with me and I with it
as the poet told his tales
of gypsy wives, oranges, and lives
that have traveled time’s tenuous trails

I gave your kiss away, like you asked me to
for it was never mine to keep
but before it flew to the one it was meant for
it touched me gently on the cheek

It’s always best when you give away
those things that are most dear
the things that run with the blood in our veins
the things that only the heart can hear

I released your kiss across the hall
when the poet stood to speak
a rapturous rendition, in velvet voice
his verse; ‘A Thousand Kisses Deep’

Now the poet has a Thousand and One
who knows how many more will drift his way
but I who thought he had nothing, also had one to give
because of my dancing friend, SarahA

[mat james]

I am one who enjoys rhyme and rythm, Blaise.

I picked your kiss from the scarlet sky
as twilight drew its shade
I slipped it in my pocket
remembering promises that I’d made

Effective start.
romantic plot.

and as they say:
"Now the work begins!"

Regards, Matj