Tenderness

” She said……

All your women
burn in your flame.

And as it dies,
they’ll leave you
and seek revenge .

I wish I could
find her now…

My love is soft
my love is warm –

I’d take her to bed
Tenderly. “

( lyrics from:
Steppenwolf’s

Tenderness
by

Mars Bonfire
and John Kay )

Most of us
that fall
into the
‘middle aged’
category can
admit that,
over the years,
we’ve made
mistakes –

Acts of
stupidity,
cupidity,
fervidity –

– in the
name of,
what we
at one time
or another
called LOVE.

It takes a lot
of time to
pass before
you realize
that you
might have
had it all
completely
wrong —

…. so
wrong …

— that your
particular spin
on it was more
of a sporadic
wobble.

I’m not
saying that
you ever
become
an expert
on the
subject,
however.

Sure,
love at
55 or 60
feels quite
different
than at
20 or 25 –
but there’s
nothing
at all to
prove that
you will ever,
ever really
get it right.

But there’s
nothing
wrong
with trying,
right ?

Today’s
beautiful
postcards
were painted
by the great
French artist
Raphael Kirchner –

they date
from around
1905 :

and the
series was called:
“Fleurs d’ Amour”.

I hope you
enjoy them.

And if, somehow,
you ran out of music
while staring intently
at these wonderful
samples of Kirchner’s
art, well,
here’s another
song you can play
in the background
that somehow
goes with these
cards perfectly.

It’s a Leonard Cohen
piece, rendered
exquisitely by
Luciana Souza —
Here It Is ” .

!! HOY !!

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Forget Me Not

In my
minds eye,
I can see
that
empty street –

I can feel the
drizzling rain
streaming down
my cheeks

as we stand
gripping each
others hands
in the dim
yellow pallor
of the street light.

Or are
those tears?

Maybe that’s
why my eyes
are burning,
even now.

I know
why my
heart
and soul
are.

That
was the day.

Now,
this is the day.

Goodbye is
no word
for lovers,
ever.

Goodbye is
a word
that should
be expunged
from the language –

as being
too cruel,
too harsh,
too bitterly final.

What’s needed
is a word –

– a magic word –

that changes
the inevitability
of ever needing
such a word
like it now,
or
ever again.

Is that
too much
to ask?

Too much
to ask-

Of the silence,

Of the dark,

Of the alone.

.

Elsie A. Gidlow says:

kissCOME
and lie with me
and love me,
Bitterness;
Touch me with your hands a little,
Kiss me, as you lean above me,
With your cold, sadistic kisses;
Wind your hair close, close around me,
Pain might dissipate this blankness;
Hurt me even, even wound me;
I have need of love that stings.
Come and lie with me and love me,
Bitterness,
So that I can laugh at things.