Sob indeed! What crocks we all are at the moment. Have you not had tonsilitis? Perhaps you're doing my trick of catching a string of childhood ailments. Oh dear, poor you.
Standing on the roof, with the wind in my hair, gulls cry I sigh, living it up here. The rain meanders along, soaking me to the bone, and ah, as I stand there... no longer alone.
2 Comments:
Sob indeed! What crocks we all are at the moment. Have you not had tonsilitis? Perhaps you're doing my trick of catching a string of childhood ailments. Oh dear, poor you.
So so sorry to hear you 2 are now 1Best regards Allan
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