Kiss of Peace
Sure it was a wave
Ended in a scratch
Across my temple. And much
I could do to tell this maiden
It wasn't her I dared my precious
Moment to laud. And she walked by
Frowning, since perhaps she knew a scratch-
And if one should follow up a wave,
She could tell that difference
Between a squint and a dim.
She's beginning to swagger
And this grin of impersonality
Has creased her cheeks;
To tell me perhaps of this blow
And she would let it again
If not warned, I tried to fool around more.
But this was she at the pew
Who before the form'
Was read by the bearded Vicar
Always turned to seek my hand for peace
And when the pew was worn
She took to a porch where I found out
A salaam to the altar was better
And how better without her,
I did not see. And I took my time
To let her see it could without me be hell
Then I closed my palms over my mouth
And gently let moisture
For my palms mustn't remain roughened;
And hers I knew a supple mass
Would want one good enough for a tarry.
A tarry certainly for the smile that came;
And these palms- not involved with bricks
Had to the owner held out chance.
A chance, thought I and a smile
Sometime at the roads
But see her whose smile would here
Matter most, swaggering away,
Hurting numberless feelings
Yet I know she would think of peace
With shakes and hugs
If only the Vicar were here
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