First Kiss
We met for drinks and music
in a quiet little bar.
A singer, Reno Sweeney,
was the evening’s featured star.
Bob and Shelia never showed,
throwing us together:
You, a dark eyed beauty,
loquacious and quite clever.
I, your unexpected swain,
With eyes an emerald treasure.
Later at the Piper’s inn
We sat before the fire
You sipped on your white Russian
I drank my Pinot Noir.
I could not know, did not foresee
Our future in my glass:
Our sensual adventures
On rooftops and on grass.
Our joys, our sorrows, and our fears
Which then could not be guessed-
Just your sweet face upturned to me
anticipating to be kissed.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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