I've Come To Terms With It, It

Be Gentle With Me, New Love. Treat Me Tenderly. I Need The Gentle Touch, The Soft Voice, The Candlelight After Nine. There's Been So Many Who Didn't Understand So Give Me All The Love I See In Your Timid Eyes But Give It Gently Please.

There's No Misery In Not Being Loved, Only In Not Loving.

I Cannot Speculate On What Our Cluttered Mind Will Save- Sleepy Sundays, Or A Nosebleed After Love. I Know Only The Dying Heart Needs The Nourishment Of Memory To Live Beyond Too Many Winters.

I Have Never Known A Cat That Couldn't Quiet Me Down Just By Walking Slowly Past My Chair.

We Come Into The World Alone. We Go Away The Same. We're Meant To Spend The Interlude Between In Closeness Or So We Tell Ourselves. But It's A Long Way From The Morning To The Evening.