What one has to say about a thing
Differs as when they are there
To when they are gone
With all the knotted complexion
Bent to anger in their trial fades
And sculpts appreciation afterwards

Its likeness splits and feathers
With varied wings and shifting faces
One day this, one season another
The lessons learned or scenes forgotten

One sees as they dream
In memory
Vision without eyes
Flavour in the thinking of it.

I wish you a lot of pleasant recollections
J.W.H. Hobbs

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