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Location: Dublin, Republic of, Ireland

Friday, 16 March 2007

old loves

Sometimes, the past is so near you can hear it breathing. Did you think just once it was sleeping?

Sometimes, it may call your name and want to play funny games or take you for a dizzy ride on the glorious crest of the sparkly sunlight and all before it says, sleep tight...goodnight...

Sometimes, it may cower behind you; playful like a restless shadow...at other moments, it may plant a kiss upon your wistful face, like a remembrance so tenderly and so dearly missed.

Perhaps all it took was a tune, a re-run of a funny cartoon, a scent, a story or a backward toss of forgotten loss, now drawered up into a tidy attic-memory.

Then like an old dodgy sailor, it may will you to clamber back in - and be careful now how you run those steps - right into its weather-worn skin, where you could hide in a nearby bunk from the treasure trunk of your beddy-bye room.

Then you could playact a child again forgetting your doom, clutching up to your Smarties as if they were your precious sweeties or else running up and down in pain searching for your fleeting bliss in vain.

The real secrets one hoards like gold are seldom...if ever told.

So if the past comes your way today, just what will it say...oh what will it say. For me, it came once more just now and then to look for you too, just yesterday.

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