This post is a response to the prompt given by Magpie Tales
The questions you ask me.
The ones you make me ask myself,
With your hair caressed by spring skies,
capable of setting Antarctica aflame.
I have no answers to why it should be so.
Why me? Why this magic?
But to your question,
"How would I like to be kissed?"
if you please,
LOL, I wasn't sure I was going to participate this week.
I always feel a tad silly writing love poetry