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 Without Rhyme Or Reason
 
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The Kiss....




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A vacant moment; a point of recall,
Brought him to mind,
Deep brown eyes,
And; a voice not unlike chocolate,
He asked my name,
And I answered,
He did too, in kind,
He was my summer of '69,
I crashed into love,
In tender years we ran,
Laughed and danced,

And we kissed….

First love kind of kissing…..
The kind that puts chocolate in the shade,

Quite some time was spent on kissing, as I recall,
I was just sixteen,
He, a year older,
He was my addiction,


but it was the kiss; I remember most….



Linda Stuart Harnett ©2010


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The Kiss....

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