The Kiss, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Tween thee and me, no words need to be said.
Beating hearts, the only sound to be heard.
Thy wispiest of smiles moves me to bed.
Perfumed air holds scent of love undeterred.
Inflamed am I touching thy golden hair,
Gently with finger tracing thy mint lips.
Leaning into thee I drink of thy air.
Thy peerless beauty begs euphoric trips.
Eros has made my heart a slave to thee,
It is thee shall I forever adore.
In your tend’r arms sheltered I am to be,
Touch of thy flesh desired does my blood soar.
Every time our lips do quietly meet,
I sip of love’s fountain ever so sweet.
Jean-Louis-André-Théodore Géricault was a painter who had significant influence on the development of Romantic art in France. Many of his drawings are more powerful in meaning than his paintings. This is a point to why I took one of his drawings as a subject for a poem. The Kiss (le baiser) has so much energy in it. Why it got my attention is probably because of my love for Antonio Canova’s Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss.