Losing One's Marbles
By Silver Spun Sand
- 4722 reads
It happens, by degrees. Begins with
misplacing one’s keys or indeed –
the car itself, albeit temporarily,
in Tesco’s car-park...Forgetting
what film I saw last night on TV.
It was an old one, if I recall –
a black and white job with that
vintage movie star; blonde. You know
the one I mean, but I’ll be blowed
if I can remember her name.
It’s on the tip of my tongue; as is
the title of this song, on Classic FM
as I write and, what in tarnation
did, I come to the fridge for?
Memories – elusive things. Where
do they hide when they escape us?
Do they go to warmer climes?
A south-sea island perhaps; one with
no calculators, computers or phones.
We all have times we need to be alone;
recharge our batteries. Speaking of which,
it’s come back to me now. That old actress
was Greta Garbo, of course, but as to
this tune; if I hum it – you might know it.
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Comments
Wonderful poem, Tina that
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I really enjoyed this to,
k.
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Anything with Garbo in is
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'What in carnation' - either
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Silver=spun-sand Words
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Tony Cook Abctales Dear
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Hi Julie, A good use for
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t.Cook editor of
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Ah who needs marbles anyway?
"I will make sense with a few reads \^^/ "
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& you can certainly write
"I will make sense with a few reads \^^/ "
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