Shelley emailed this to me last week: Thanks Shells!!
Fav Sculpture: Rodin's 'Kiss'
Ninja vs Penguin's 'First Kiss'
I don't know who took this one.
Alfred Eisenstaedt’s image of a sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square on V-J Day in 1945. (Photo: Alfred Eisenstaedt, Time-Life/Getty Images)So I'm sitting here managing to get a reasonable amount of work done...huge green fly circling over my head...and then I remembered that I have to look for my bank statements from 2007 to send to my accountant. I think they may be in storage in the roof or somewhere so I'm going to have to phone the bank and get them sent at R5 a pop. This sucks. I know I've not thrown them away. Grr...
Our friends Elaine and Pete (BTW thanks for movie night last night!) are sorting out their house and there's been talk of things unearthed in the process... My one box that is not in storage contains momentos from the last 10 years or so of my life (and beyond).
I used to write a lot of poems. Mostly love or frustration poems. There's one for just about every guy I've agonised over... I will now share a poem about kissing that I wrote in about the year 1999:
KISS:
When we kiss, oh! Heaven's in that
smile and joking eyes -
your honest searching. Always searching...
Brain ticking, careful not to say too much
but subtle, oh, so subtle kiss & kiss
And kiss some more
and comfort felt oh you, oh me
oh, you! together with me we mix a kiss
so sweet the nectar of a thousand bees
could not compare to this.
soon the flowers will pass their season and
perhaps return on the same cloud
or sadly [perhaps] on those of another sky;
another day; another season >
Or perhaps the memory of this, our season -
me and you and you and me
will linger long enough to see another. Perhaps.
For now, to savor every kiss
and lock it into now's eternity.
- - - - -
He must have been a good kisser.
Our friends Elaine and Pete (BTW thanks for movie night last night!) are sorting out their house and there's been talk of things unearthed in the process... My one box that is not in storage contains momentos from the last 10 years or so of my life (and beyond).
I used to write a lot of poems. Mostly love or frustration poems. There's one for just about every guy I've agonised over... I will now share a poem about kissing that I wrote in about the year 1999:
KISS:
When we kiss, oh! Heaven's in that
smile and joking eyes -
your honest searching. Always searching...
Brain ticking, careful not to say too much
but subtle, oh, so subtle kiss & kiss
And kiss some more
and comfort felt oh you, oh me
oh, you! together with me we mix a kiss
so sweet the nectar of a thousand bees
could not compare to this.
soon the flowers will pass their season and
perhaps return on the same cloud
or sadly [perhaps] on those of another sky;
another day; another season >
Or perhaps the memory of this, our season -
me and you and you and me
will linger long enough to see another. Perhaps.
For now, to savor every kiss
and lock it into now's eternity.
- - - - -
He must have been a good kisser.
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