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August 19, 2013

The Kiss

The sweetest lover of them all

Will kiss you lightly on the cheek

Then lift you gently off your feet

As you grow weary, you grow weak —

And limbs grow heavy, made of lead

And forward drops that troubled head,

Will hold you safely in his arm

Lest you should come to any harm —

And you a child now lost and meek,

Drawn into dreamland will not speak

Yet offer him the other cheek —

The sweetest lover, we call him “Sleep.”

Lisa Manning

Gloucester

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