Kisses poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of kisses poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on kisses are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I can’t forget to forget the world When your lips tenderly meet mine I can’t remember all my worries When those lips kiss me so fine That gentle caress of your’s Across my cheek Makes all my problems Look weak
You are everywhere In the speckled dust Entangled with the subtle smell Of the river fish Silvery, fragile. I want to kiss you In all the dark places. Haunted by the impossibility of a dream. Singularities, Shadows. Open the door
I can’t name things. I can’t tell, with some mighty confidence, this is this or that is that. You tell me of love. but, I have known too many loves. blue love, green love, red love, even yellow love. I
Fragrance of body and sensual delights Help me to explore new beautiful heights When we enjoy and find jubilant flights Rainbow spreads and kisses love kites You and me are together in trance Life has offered this wonderful chance Kiss
I sail towards the melting horizon. The boat hugs a rock, yet only cracks. I don’t drown, but there is a frozen mass, Stone heavy, pulling me down; my heart. Worried, I dive and swim to the edge. I see
Descending schools of clear droplets wash away yesterday, Thunder bellows and shakes …stirs thoughts adrift in the distance, trickles of fine creeks merge on the bedroom window pane. ..and I reflect back to a man…an essential friend… His last night.
There is another sky of brighter days where empty heart has its fill, where another beauty glimmers on the blades of grasses. Another sunshine shoots its arrows through the clouds of a new sky. never mind my faded dreams, never
Dear muse, I penned this verse with feather quill, To gently praise your beauty of renown, My words to float aloft your gaze until, They softly kiss your eyes like thistledown. One single thought of you is all I need,
The last bit of cigarette from his hand drops into the ashtray. So does mine. Are they making love to each other, As we are? Love, need, passion, kisses, skin, climax. Are their thoughts like ours, burnt and spent? As
That boy who broke your heart? Don’t try to push him out of your life. It won’t happen like that. Stalk him. Visit his Facebook page every day. Be jealous when he puts up updates of hanging out with women
The old familiar sting, O blues hits in moments spent beneath the willow tree torn out faces, worn out places these memories’ll burn till I’m ashes Now more than ever, O shooting star I wish to come home where kisses
Only those with the wisest minds -the oldest eyes, remember the days of love truly lost. The woman with the rage speckled iris, the man with the world-heavy curved spine, Holding aloft thy heads as the wisping breaths of each
goats ate all the flowers before chased by farm girls all the little rumps flee so pleasant over the grass bees in the clover formal in their golden dresses get their stockings dirty smelling like sneezes there’s a raccoon by
In the art of letter writing, is a hand that writes it, pouring out the heart, through a sea of beautiful feelings, surrendering the soul. It is like an intricately woven lace of intense emotions, across the flowery page, that
The poet is drunk his kisses taste like juniper crushed seashells fall from his socks it must be early Sunday morning pastors dreaming about goldfish pavement caresses like a cheese grater weak knees pray the inspiration dead or at least
True love knows no pain…love Is a rare and precious thing and Has no chains…true love is the Dream of dreams and love to me Means never having to be lonely Doing whatever it takes to make That one special
Part 1 – Us A connection, telepathy sometimes. Cup of tea, cup of coffee. Helping hand, kind assurance. Pat on the back, kiss on the lips. You and me and complete loss of words. There’s something between us. A touch
It is said, that suffering shows the truth. Only the sufferer discovers light of Being. Light contains seven colors. Yet I didn’t manage to catch the Rainbow. It is said, that suffering is, what is True. I know! I know!
A silent war with oneself devouring all the cells, the gory remains of words and grainy kisses of tears. A curved hook in the mouth to start a prayer for the freedom from whispers of brand and labels: liberation from
Dream the dreams that once had tip-toed softly through your sleep Dream of the immeasurable, so silent and so deep, Believe in the impossible, yet be prepared to doubt Your whispers are just dreams of night that haven’t learned to
Where the tide line of reality and dreams appear We stand. Uncertainty and reassurance walking hand in hand. Enjoying the kisses of the salty breeze, at the same time feeding the wind it’s flavour. Unable to indulge in our creation.
Is fleeting, is flighty Is forever, is mighty Is calming, is exciting Is grounding, is intoxicating Makes you smirk, makes you cry Makes you gasp, makes you sigh Makes you swoon, makes you cling, Makes you glide, makes you sing
When I met you for the first time You gifted me..My Basket of Dreams Long But Forgotten, Lost But Found ! Full of Bliss ..Thy Basket of Dreams Its Woven with silk of your reflection Its coated in pink, your
She was born in Spain, and he arrived from Egypt, for Centuries those two were inseparable, a perfect couple they dance in tune although, with time their apparel changed, but the duo still attune. They could not live one without
felt faint inside from the heat of the day I fell down on my knees to pray thought of those memories from a time ago Christmas was spent under the mistletoe hugs & kisses with everything new Pretty pictures pretty
Give me back, me back, my affections. I had planted the kisses on melting lamps. The dark tunnel goes to a lake for a rendezvous with pink death on white lips of cinders. Such agony of wintering tree. Not a
Eight kisses of death and I am alive My chest is still bleeding Come brother, come, stitch my wounds. What shall we believe, rebirth or life after death? Both are study of wasteland. To speak through angels is difficult these
With fondness I recall love that was: Lyrical like the breeze that kisses my forehead, That tanned my skin is pleasant warmth! With drums and tantrums they celebrated the union of two souls, And then the matriarchs spurned the love
your nan, your grama your whatever you called ‘er a soft place to fall if mom & dad hollered chores for a quarter, sleep-overs for fun love aplenty, wisdom a ton strong cementing, dependable fixture penchant for silliness stirred into
His obsession radiates deep into realms of eternity of the most dark, sinister and raw nature and he listens as the darkness of her whispers in the deep midnight hour “Do you dare to love such shadows as me?” He
Your eyes are dreamy like a bright night. Or the sun’s reflection on oceans and seas. Your kisses are sweet heavenly bliss, like standing in a forest full of trees, inhaling the summer’s breeze heavenly mist. Your touch makes my