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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:writenow.blog.co.uk,2009-11-12:/</id><title>Write Now</title><link rel="self" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-12T08:51:22+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:writenow.blog.co.uk,2005-09-12:/2005/09/12/kiss_me_goodnight~176978/</id><title>Kiss Me Goodnight</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/kiss_me_goodnight~176978/"/><author><name>jools</name></author><published>2005-09-12T18:10:01+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T18:10:01+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Kiss me goodnight!&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I know something is wrong,&lt;br&gt;
This does not feel quite right,&lt;br&gt;
I lie their frightened&lt;br&gt;
When you kiss me goodnight.&lt;br&gt;
I ignored the rumours,&lt;br&gt;
It is love that we possess&lt;br&gt;
For only,&lt;br&gt;
In your arms, do I find tenderness.&lt;br&gt;
Silently I lie there&lt;br&gt;
My pillow absorbs my tears,&lt;br&gt;
And while you lie there dreaming&lt;br&gt;
I lie awake&lt;br&gt;
With all my fears.&lt;br&gt;
You are not the same,&lt;br&gt;
You have changed somehow,&lt;br&gt;
Instead of making love,&lt;br&gt;
You try to start a row.&lt;br&gt;
Nothing I do is right,&lt;br&gt;
Yet it was before,&lt;br&gt;
I feel the spark begin to die,&lt;br&gt;
That&lt;br&gt;
You don’t want me anymore.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;(C)
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/kiss_me_goodnight~176978/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:writenow.blog.co.uk,2005-09-12:/2005/09/12/one_day~176909/</id><title>One Day</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/one_day~176909/"/><author><name>jools</name></author><published>2005-09-12T17:36:45+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T17:36:45+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;One day&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I sit holding your picture,&lt;br&gt;
Whispering your name,&lt;br&gt;
But you just sit there,&lt;br&gt;
Watching.&lt;br&gt;
Frozen inside the frame.&lt;br&gt;
The tears need no prompting,&lt;br&gt;
They fall hard and fast,&lt;br&gt;
Crying over a lost love,&lt;br&gt;
Lost within the past.&lt;br&gt;
They say that love never fades,&lt;br&gt;
True love will never die,&lt;br&gt;
And the pain does not ease&lt;br&gt;
With the many tears I cry.&lt;br&gt;
So do I have to suffer,&lt;br&gt;
When all I want you see,&lt;br&gt;
Is to be with my loved one,&lt;br&gt;
Or&lt;br&gt;
For him&lt;br&gt;
To be&lt;br&gt;
With me.&lt;br&gt;
We made a vow together,&lt;br&gt;
On our wedding day at the church,&lt;br&gt;
And there is nothing in this whole world,&lt;br&gt;
Which could ever end my search.&lt;br&gt;
We promised we’d be together,&lt;br&gt;
Until our dying day,&lt;br&gt;
But you left so soon,&lt;br&gt;
Why did you go away.&lt;br&gt;
How could the angels,&lt;br&gt;
High in heaven above,&lt;br&gt;
Decide to take you,&lt;br&gt;
Could they not see our love?&lt;br&gt;
So now I search for answers,&lt;br&gt;
Continue to question why,&lt;br&gt;
Praying you will be there waiting&lt;br&gt;
When it’s my turn to die.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;© Julie Candlin Weston. 2004&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/one_day~176909/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:writenow.blog.co.uk,2005-09-12:/2005/09/12/my_son~176905/</id><title>My Son</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/my_son~176905/"/><author><name>jools</name></author><published>2005-09-12T17:35:32+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T17:35:32+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;
My son.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Let me guide you through this life&lt;br&gt;
For I have walked it’s roads&lt;br&gt;
I know where sadness dwells&lt;br&gt;
I know where pains abodes&lt;br&gt;
I could show you shortcuts&lt;br&gt;
Cutting corners&lt;br&gt;
Avoiding memories&lt;br&gt;
Avoiding mourners&lt;br&gt;
And from the lessons I have learnt&lt;br&gt;
You can cross the bridges&lt;br&gt;
I have burnt&lt;br&gt;
And from the lessons I’ve ignored&lt;br&gt;
You can see the love&lt;br&gt;
I once adored.&lt;br&gt;
You can laugh where I cried&lt;br&gt;
For you life begins&lt;br&gt;
Where my life died.&lt;br&gt;
For you are my soul&lt;br&gt;
The innocence inside&lt;br&gt;
All the truth in a world&lt;br&gt;
Which lied.&lt;br&gt;
You are my future&lt;br&gt;
And when I am gone,&lt;br&gt;
My soul will live&lt;br&gt;
Through&lt;br&gt;
You my son.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;© 2005&lt;br&gt;
Julie Candlin Weston&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/my_son~176905/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:writenow.blog.co.uk,2005-09-12:/2005/09/12/title~176899/</id><title>title-176899</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/title~176899/"/><author><name>jools</name></author><published>2005-09-12T17:33:39+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T17:33:39+02:00</updated><content type="html">&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://writenow.blog.co.uk/2005/09/12/title~176899/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry></feed>
