lodge of the desired haven , numbered 5948.



a ladies evening , patrons of

the benevolent institution. they ate



chipolata sausages while mrs harry

jones extended a hearty welcome &

trusted they were enjoying a happy

evening.



the haven found to mark the end of

the war on may 8th, read the history.



inside a small photo

tucked.



at one pound.



sbm.

you may be rendered speechless

again.



i have planned the route, refered the destination.



days of memory.



sbm.

they gave me free hangers, as many as i like, i chose coloured plastic, wood and padded. a few wire ones for extra with experimentation. two rooms, one for men, another for womens complete gender differentiation.



sbm. (mx)

the next course.



may be to meet the writer at the plas.

it is a big house, remember we walked

there this summer from the oakley.



up the drive, then back down again

later.



things change, i hope to change with

them.



this autumn.



sbm.

leon. i borrowed your apron many years ago.



i still have it and just remember you, your darkness.



it was good news from the bad, i could have lost

you all so quickly.



i am drawing trees today.



sbm.

i do not wait for the alarm,

just the red bar on my gauge.



it is a quiet village, a name

i can’t pronounce. so i stopped

for fuel.



how nice, an attendant, probably

owner/mechanic came, took my

keys and did it all for me.



whilst chatting about the day, how

the nights draw in, and i felt cosy.



a softer voice than some, his clothes

hard working.



i asked for twenty quid’s worth

to see me home, and a chomp

at 25p.



i shall stop there next time.



comfortable.



sbm.

you have seen this before.

he is knitted, been bombed.

serious stuff this fine day.

bank holiday.



i dislike the term intensely,

acute, strong, & vehement,

especially these days of war.



the sight of it sets my teeth

on edge. it may be a childhood

memory.



sbm.