The Golden Kiss
I met her on the bottom stair,
She coming down, I waiting there;
I held her fair with hands and heart,
Told her that we would never part.
Such promises betray our trust,
And all our loves turn then to dust!
The kiss we gave to each that day,
Fond memory of our love at play.
That kiss is now a real icon
Of God the Lover’s fresh beyond—
Who hides within all matter here
And woos too ardently, I fear!
I lost my heart once with that kiss,
But found an earnest of real bliss.
Image: Gustave Klimt’s The Kiss
