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The Kiss (a sonnet)

She stands proud upon the dew-encrusted field
and beckons me to join her on the grass.
I pause in fear that soon my heart would yield
and break into a million shards of glass.
She smiles and soon the fear begins to pass
and slowly to her side I start to go,
one foot before the next as passions mass,
till I reach out into her vibrant glow,
which melts my heart like fire melts the snow
and soon I hear the angels start to sing,
which echoes in my mind and starts to grow,
till passion bursts and all my mind does ring.

And then at last our lips will finely meet
and then at last my soul will be complete.

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