The kiss

I came across this poem. It is called the kiss and it is by Ulick O'Connor. Apparently Aer Lingus also has it on the back of their seats. So I did a little research to find the complete poem. It is marvelous. The first part much more so than the second part. When I read the entire poem a slight disequilibrium results and in that see saw motion one tends to forget for a bit the brilliance of the first part.
Here is the link that I found it at

Here is another beautiful article about it


Here is the poem.

THE KISS

She said to me

"Kiss me specially",

And with her lips on mine

Traced a design

To show the way

Bees on a drowsy day

Suck honey from fuchsia.

How could I be so sure

That the artificer who spun

The golden honeycomb

For her at Erice,

The goddess in exile

Could ever have gleaned

What I found

When I leaned

To that command.

This is one of those poems which paints its own picture. A blank canvas is all that is required. The reader who is the blankest will feel the most vivid colors.