Snog me lots

By Peter Clive

Kiss me once, kiss me twice, kiss me here, it's very nice,
snog me lots, snog me more, wash me up on love's lost shore,
counting kisses like grains of sand,spilling from your gentle hands,
spread your kisses like they're atomssink them where the coral is vivid
deeper than jealousy can fathomconfound the reckoning of the wicked

 

(So, let us live and love, my Lesbia,
and reckon all the smug, self-satisfied, snivelling,
senile snipes and gripes of gossip gathering about us
at less than a farthing! The Sun dies and can return,
like a glittering coin tossed a thousand times.
To us is given just a single brief glimpse of light
before we must turn our face away,
and be cast into perpetual night.

 

So, give me a thousand kisses, and then give me a hundred
and then another thousand, and then a second hundred
and then yet another thousand, even then another hundred.
And then, then, only then, once we have shared so very,
very many thousands of kisses, bin the count!
So that even we don’t know how many there are
And then no-one else can try to defend their ill-will towards us
by knowing the extent of the incalculable, scandalous wealth of our kisses.)

 

The sparrow

 

 

Peter Clive lives on the southside of Glasgow, Scotland with his wife and three children. He is a scientist working in the renewable energy sector. As well as poetry, he enjoys composing music for piano and spending time in the Isle of Lewis. Peter has been published by Poetry Republic, Writer's Cafe Magazine, Cadaverous Magazine, Reflections, Riggwelter, The Blue Nib and Causeway, and performs occasionally at events in the Glasgow area.