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KINDNESS

Golden Kisses

Let you dream pink dreams,

and the night will be calm and pleasant,

Let everything be easy in the Kingdom of stars and the gentle moon, simple and clear.

Let the good and fairy-tale night Wrap itself in peace, silence, Banish vanity, fatigue away And take Morpheus with it to the world.

I wish you to rest your soul,

Gain strength and vigor, health,

Let the angel be next to you.

Golden Kisses 🕯️

Golden kisses 🕯️🕯️

God needs you to understands ~

God doesn’t base your value on what you do, on how well you perform, on how talented you are, how many people look up to you. Your value is based on the fact that you’re His child; He breathed life into you. He made you in His own image. There’s nothing you can do that […]

God needs you to understand ~

It’s easy to start thinking that we’ve seen our best days when our business slows down, a person walks away, or a plan fails. But the Scripture says, “The path of the righteous gets brighter and brighter until full day” – Proverbs 4 verse 18. What God has in front of you is more fulfilling […]

Good wants you to understand ~

When you are selfish, you only suffocate yourself. The more you can be open and joyfully celebrate other people’s successes – the more success will open for you. The more you dream for others – the more your dreams will come true!

By ace101

Ace Worldwide News Group working with Kindness & Wisdom in perfect harmony to provide help and guidance through news & views and the truth to people in need Amen

One reply on “Golden Kisses”

“Remember, you loved me, when we were young, one day”

The words of the song in Tauber’s mellifluous tenor

Haunt my nights and days, make me tremble when I hear

Your voice on the phone, sadden me when I can’t make into your smile

The pucker of your lips, the gleam in your eye.

The day we met is with me still, you asked directions

And on the way we chatted. You told me how you’d left

Lancashire for Leeds, went to the same TC as me, even liked poetry

Both were looking for an ‘interesting evening class’

Instead we found each other.

You took me back for tea to the flat in Headingley

You shared with two other girls. The class in Moortown

Was a disaster. Walking home in the rain I put my arm

Around you and you did not resist, we shared your umbrella

Then we kissed.

I liked the taste of your lips, the tingle of your fingertips,

Your mild perfume. When a sudden gust blew your umbrella inside out

We sheltered underneath a cobbled arch, a rainy arch, a rainbow arch.

“I’m sorry”, you said about nothing in particular, perhaps the class

Gone wrong, the weather, I’ll never know but there were tears in your eyes

But perhaps it was just the rain. We kissed again and I felt

Your soft breasts and smelt the hair on your neck and I was lost to you

And you to me perhaps, I’ll never know.

We went to plays, I read my poems aloud in quiet places,

I met your mother and you met mine. We quarrelled over stupid things.

When my best friend seduced you I blamed him and envied him

And tried to console you when you cried a whole day through.

The next weekend I had the flu and insisted you came to look after me

In my newly-rented bungalow. Out of the blue I said, “What you did for him

You can do for me”. It was not the way our first and only love-making

Should have been, you guilty and regretful, me resentful and not tender.

When I woke I saw you in the half-light naked, curled and innocent

I truly loved you If I’d proposed you might have agreed, I’ll never know.

A month later you were pregnant and I was not the father.

I wanted to help you with the baby, wanted you to stay with me

So I could look after you and be there for the birth but your mind

Was set elsewhere end I was too immature to understand or care.

When I saw you again you had Sarah and I had Brenda, my wife-to-be;

Three decades of nightmare ahead with neither of our ‘adult children’

Quite right, both drink to excess and have been on wards.

Nor has your life been a total success, full-time teaching till you retired

Then Victim Support: where’s that sharp mind, that laughter and that passion?

And what have I to show?

A few pamphlets, a small ‘Selected’, a single good review.

Sat in South Kensington on the way to the Institut I wrote this,

Too frightened even to phone you.

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