Friday, 13 November 2015

Always That Thursday into Friday ....

I can almost hear you ... Only for me to know silently, what passed in this time ... And how sometimes I am not but here, near you ... 

I have kept busy and occupied with words, some of which I have still to type from thoughts to many many words ... 

  • For starters ... From our time in a village .... 


A peal of bells 
The children's yells 
The river trail


  • Cornwall ... Hobby horse in Padstow ... May Pole ...  Lanyon Quoit ...  Lands End 


  • The sounds of a town ... not necessarily rhyming ... Either ... 


  • The wind whistling through like winds past ... Doing the Duke of Edinburgh and making the local news for we got caught up in a blizzard ... They made it sound so dramatic ... Dad picking me up from the police station ...



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