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Photographer's Note

In A Gondola by Robert Browning

The moth's kiss, first!
Kiss me as if you made believe
You were not sure, this eve,
How my face, your flower, had pursed
Its petals up; so, here and there
You brush it, till I grow aware
Who wants me, and wide open I burst.

The bee's kiss, now!
Kiss me as if you enter'd gay
My heart at some noonday,
A bud that dares not disallow
The claim, so all is rendered up,
And passively its shattered cup
Over your head to sleep I bow.

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Additional Photos by Eleni Mahera (elenimahera) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Note Writer [C: 77 W: 0 N: 91] (695)
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