1890 Hmm I so love the smell of the sea. My mum is pulling me along the footpath by the beach and telling me to stop dragging my heels. But I need to breathe. Stop puffing Harry stop your dawdling she is saying. Mum wants to get back home. And she is so mad. Always mad at Me for running off. My... Sign in to see full entry.
tales from the murky splurge:
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About this Blog
Poetry is about expression of thought. Sometimes the best work is the kind of stuff that just leaps up from within our soul. I write a lot about the murky splurge...This defines a place where we are are given the freedom to bare our souls in word but understand it is between the lines where most truth resides, In a world which has an abundance of love for all to share there is a whirlwind stirring. these words come out of a storm, but reader of my blog, please see although we write about many things, we may just mean another...well that is what the villagers said..... have fun.
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