Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
Be not loath to tell them so.
Lips go dry and eyes grow wet
Waiting to be warmly met,
Keep them not in waiting yet;
Kisses kept are wasted.

Edmund Vance Cooke (1866-1932) Canadian poet

“Kisses Kept Are Wasted,” ll. 1-9, Little Songs for Two (1909)
    (Source)