Dear Irene, passed days fade away but the remembrance of happy hours flickers like a candle in later decades. Cordially, Inge

Answer by Irene Beddies (06.04.2016):
Dear Inge, past days are past days and one shouldn't remember too often the bliss they gave. But now and then something reminds you that they really were true. And that ist nice. Thank you for your comment and have nice days, Irene

Dear Irene,
an american poet, so dear to my heart, wrote:
"I'm still carrying the gift you gave,
it's a part of me now, it's been cherished an saved."

Your straight woman, did she never cry a tear? Did she really go through life without regrets and without scars? Sometimes I doubt it...

Yours Patrick

Answer by Irene Beddies (04.04.2016):
Dear Patrick, of course she cried frist but saw that parting was o.k. Remembrance in her blood stirred sometimes her memory of old days but left no scar. She took the gift and put it into her treasure box. She didn't look often into it. Yours, Irene

Oh Irene, a "golden carpet at their roots" that's
the metaphor I really adore, apart from all the
other ones. (*.*) Inge

Answer by Irene Beddies (04.04.2016):
Yes Inge, the golden carpet I see every autumn on the lawn below my window. That inspired partly my lines. (* ! *) Irene