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Sweet decay rises from the fallen apples that lie condemned under your hammock, mingling with the dying fall of a neighbour's lawn mower, invading your dreams.


The wine glass at your side contains one small fly, scrambling for safety up the sticky cliff-face. The sun's warmth fights a losing battle with the overhanging chestnut tree and you shiver involuntarily, but only once.


The golden-faced youth of your dream turns into a pock-marked veteran, his complexion bruised and pitted. You realise you are staring at your reflection.

Was it?


It wasn't.


The image of the youth turning into an old man is conjured, within the dream, by the smell and sounds of a late summer's evening. The author inexpertly attempts to portray the experience one can have in a dream of watching one's own life.


Give the author a break, he is in a meeting, "taking notes".

Where's our resident Poet Maxie now?


Still living the dream?


Having a dream within a dream?


Arise from your lazy slumber oh! ever so "polite and funny" one.


Its nearly 5.30AM and there's a big,wide World out there to explore, so what are you doing now?


Dreaming The Dream?


Plenty of time to sleep and dream when you're dead Gerontius....B)


tls exeuent to begin his morning studies...

Throw those curtains wide,365 days a year like this will see me right!

What a fabulous day,methinks summer hasn't quite finished with us yet.

Mind you I'm off to Kefalonia,so might just drag the sun down to the Med with me if you all dont mind!!

I'll bring it back with me though

  • 3 weeks later...

It is glorious weather in the South West, unbroken blue sky and set fair for the village cricket this afternoon.


I am torn between a lazy day with a good book and the sound of leather on willow or a trip to West Bay for a fish and chips, this late in the season the beach will be locals only.

  • 2 weeks later...

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