Kiss
the impossible hope that love
will last. An end to looking
as if for one glove.

Swallow the sweet
lust of fruit—one way a body

can be pleased.

Tell others why.

Tell others nothing.

Feel the tongue and how
goodness
and mercy can flow
like a river from the north

or how it can rage as only rage can

and know there isn’t much to say
after that.

“What a mouth will do” by Betsy Johnson-Miller, from Rain When You Want Rain. © Mayapple Press, 2010.

See how much better the poem above is from the one below that appeared a few days later (May 17) also in the Writer’s Almanac.

Cean Dubh Deelish

Put your head, darling, darling, darling,
  Your darling black head my heart above;
Oh, mouth of honey, with the thyme for fragrance,
  Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love?
Oh, many and many a young girl for me is pining,
  Letting her locks of gold to the cold wind free,
For me, the foremost of our gay young fellows;
  But I’d leave a hundred, pure love, for thee!
Then put your head, darling, darling, darling,
  Your darling black head my heart above;
Oh, mouth of honey, with the thyme for fragrance,
  Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love?

“Cean Dubh Deelish” by Sir Samuel Ferguson. Public domain.