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Whispers

by Ken Harnisch

“You would not dissemble a young heart so

Yet still, that you do, sir,” she said to me

I of course replied, I would never, no

Nor would I use my guile so unsubtly

“ ‘Tis not unsubtle your guile, I know,”

She replied with a slow and breathy sigh

“It is your voice, brought soft and low

That raises mine so fluttery, high.”

Then I just smiled, holding her to me

To touch my lips to her flaxen hair

I spoke my words as a whispering bee

And let them float in her quivering ear

She moaned, in a sweet, chilled calamity

“O lord! What your whispers do to me.”

03/25/2003

Posted on 07/08/2003
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kate Demeree on 07/08/03 at 04:33 PM

This made me smile, espesually " spoke my words as a whispering bee And let them float in her quivering ear ... and �O lord! What your whispers do to me.�

Posted by Agnes Eva on 07/08/03 at 04:39 PM

'whispering bee'- that's great. this manages to sound both very modernly charged yet medievally proper

Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/08/03 at 05:01 PM

Outstanding dialogue. I love the banter.

Posted by Melissa Arel on 07/09/03 at 03:25 PM

I agree with everyone's comments, this is a gem! I really enjoyed reading it, Ken :)

Posted by Jeanne Marie Hoffman on 07/09/03 at 07:21 PM

I really like it, especially the couplet. Very romantic and sensual. Good job :)

Posted by Lori Johnson on 07/14/03 at 05:07 PM

...made me shiver just to read it & I wasn't even the intended. LOL Excellent read, Ken. :)

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