Kiss

If kiss is the stamp of love

stamp me all over,

a honey smear of love,

bright and glistening

lustier than wine

rosier than the early sun

pricier than gems and money.

If eyes are the pathways

to the inmost being,

lips are the gateways

to late winter spring.

Paint them in any shade

musk, ebony, green or red

they shine ravishing with

the touch of magic rainbow,

the lips untouched by colours

look a spray of all hues, 

nothing to take away or add .

But no feel is heavenly
like a  kiss of warm love

no feather can  ever
match its soft warmth

a liplock of true love
makes the body burn,
heart beats louder than drum
the twilight delight
overtakes the night
a moony paradise dawns
the being transcends life.

Sabita Sahu