"For shade to shade will come too drowsily, And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul."

[Friday 19th October 2018]



Do good company, laughter and shared tales serve to highlight what's missing?

 Or perhaps such times act like stepping stones across a barren lake as part of a seemingly unending quest for the safety of land and close companionship?

[Post title is a quote from 'Ode to Melancholy' by John Keats]

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