Remembering

Remembering’s a funny thing,

the joys and sorrow it can bring;

the meaning coming from that thought

brings happiness that can’t be bought.

But then at times it brings back days

when we’d have lived in other ways.

But all-in-all I want to know

that I can sit and gently go

back to the place where I did live;

the pain and pleasure I did give,

the ships that passed me in the night,

the times of dread and sheer delight.

I know that life would lose its plan

without the past that made this man.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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