Author William Strode My love and I for kisses play'd, Shee would keepe stake, I was content, But when I wonne shee would be paid; This made mee aske her what she meant. Pray, since I see (quoth shee) your wrangling vayne, Take your owne kisses, give me myne againe. Tags love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments