Five Kisses

Behind the annexe classrooms,
under the sycamore tree,
one old penny for a cheek peck
from Margaret and Maureen McGhee.

On the stage at the girls’ school,
the cast long gone to town,
swapping spit with lonely Clare
I let her tyres down.

Snogging at the bus stop
the pubs were long closed
I struck the chimes at midnight
on the buttons of her clothes.

After two too many cheering drinks
in the arms of a close friend,
I thought of telling her husband,
but we never spoke again.

Our passionate hour has ticked away;
we’re diminished by this loss.
We hide our needs in slippered love
where a kiss is just a cross.