To dream of the past & live in it still, is to forego the future.
Childhood is present & the past real. On waking, aching loss remains.
Come with me my little one – away, away from here, Come with me to the far grey hills where rooks and eagles dare to make their nest a rocky ledge and soar through misty cloud, Come my love, come take my hand – escape the city crowds. Come with me my little one … Continue reading Lullaby for a Pandemic