The Modern PoetFor your words and others.
Release 15
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THE MODERN POET

Kissing time

By Eugene Field

'T is when the lark goes soaring And the bee is at the bud, When lightly dancing zephyrs Sing over field and flood; When all sweet things in nature Seem joyfully achime - 'T is then I wake my darling, For it is kissing time! Go, pretty lark, a-soaring, And suck your sweets, 0 bee; Sing, 0 ye winds of summer, Your songs to mine and me; For with your song and rapture Cometh the moment when It's half-past kissing time And time to kiss again! So - so the days go fleeting Like golden fancies free, And every day that cometh Is full of sweets for me; And sweetest are those moments My darling comes to climb Into my lap to mind me That it is kissing time. Sometimes, maybe, he wanders A heedless, aimless way - Sometimes, maybe, he loiters In pretty, prattling play; But presently bethinks him And hastens to me then, For it's half-past kissing time And time to kiss again!

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Poetry data from PoetryDB, curated by The Combed Thunderclap · metadata CC BY 4.0 · Public-domain poem text (USA)

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