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Mar 18
I will never forget the sound of that foghorn
that cut a path through the fog
of those long ago nights,
or the
stars like the whites of my eyes
twinkling as they danced across
those Morecambe Bay skies.

I must go to visit the lighthouse
I might even give it a hug
for making my childhood
so special.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
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