That’s where I’ll​ find you

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Saturday 4th November

     

Silently treading

Through the depths

Of my unconsciousness

   

Weightlessly floating

In the blue swell

Of countless oceans

  

Lost on the winds

Blowing imperceptibly 

Across grassy meadows

  

Gently encompassed

Within a silken cocoon

Of mellifluous dreams

  

That’s where I’ll​ find you

My sweet Angel

My darling boy

  

xxxxxx

Beautiful rainbow across Porthmeor Beach


A wintry looking sea


Blustery winds, scudding clouds and a little bright sunshine


Young swans in the harbour

 

They had probably flown across the bay from the estuary at Hayle


A ‘Jumbo’ sailing in the late afternoon sun


A replica, nineteenth century, fishing lugger

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