Beginning of the end

Empathic, loving expression

Perspectives on Life, the Universe and Everything

Those rhymes I sung
When I was little
Front bells I rung
Before running away
Shouting top of my lungs
Old anthems of brave
Bees who stung
Anywhere I could touch
On those trees we hung
As days passed away
Bit by bit I am losing you all
Memories where art thou
Where else dear old fellow
Just on the tip of your tongue

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About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
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