Kiss

the impossible hope that love

will last. An end to looking

as if for one glove.

Swallow the sweet

lust of fruit—one way a body

can be pleased.

Tell others why.

Tell others nothing.

Feel the tongue and how

goodness

and mercy can flow

like a river from the north

or how it can rage as only rage can

and know there isn’t much to say

after that.

“What a mouth will do” by Betsy Johnson-Miller, from Rain When You Want Rain. © Mayapple Press, 2010.

See how much better the poem above is from the one below that appeared a few days later (May 17) also in the Writer’s Almanac.

Cean Dubh Deelish

Put your head, darling, darling, darling,

  Your darling black head my heart above;

Oh, mouth of honey, with the thyme for fragrance,

  Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love?

Oh, many and many a young girl for me is pining,

  Letting her locks of gold to the cold wind free,

For me, the foremost of our gay young fellows;

  But I’d leave a hundred, pure love, for thee!

Then put your head, darling, darling, darling,

  Your darling black head my heart above;

Oh, mouth of honey, with the thyme for fragrance,

  Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love?

“Cean Dubh Deelish” by Sir Samuel Ferguson. Public domain.