Poem Hunter
The Kiss
(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

The Kiss

I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.

For though I know he loves me,
To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.

User Rating: 3,5 / 5 ( 30 votes ) 9

Comments (9)

...he has kissed my mouth. An octave stanza Structured in two quatrains. SylvaOnyemaUba
love this a nice poem
Reality cannot always attain the beauty of dreams aspired to.
Of all the comments below, David Wood said it best. Pretty much what I was going to say. Thanks, David.
this poem is so moving
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