We are travellers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.He wasn’t “driving” he was “travelling”.
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You been on the Buckfast?We are travellers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.
None of that Devon rubbish has ever passed the lips of thisYou been on the Buckfast?
Yeah, but that was written by his representative....None of that Devon rubbish has ever passed the lips of thissettlerindividualperson.
Shades of “He’s not dead, he’s resting”.He wasn’t “driving” he was “travelling”.
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Is this from a Dorries book?We are travellers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.
Could be, if it had a bit more grunting, sweating and thrusting.Is this from a Dorries book?
Well, having introduced the encounter...to love...I assumed it would be in the next paragraph.Could be, if it had a bit more grunting, sweating and thrusting.
My poetry reached its apogee with " There was a young sailor from Brighton..........." Mad Nads could easily finish that one.Well, having introduced the encounter...to love...I assumed it would be in the next paragraph.
Carry on.