It’s always a surprise to discover a cache of long-forgotten poems tucked away in some obscure file but often it’s depressing to realise, on reading them, how mediocre they are.
I suppose I shouldn’t mourn the irretrievable hours spent crafting them because such time is never entirely wasted and there are always one or two that are worth a second look.
Perhaps Besame Mucho is one such poem.
BESAME MUCHO
Kisses can be so diverse,
I realise.
I never knew before
how each is like a snowflake:
quite unique.
Within your arms
I am
drab terrain made beautiful
by drifting snow.
Worthy of a Ming poet..
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