Stand Down Margaret

One of the things that happens as you walk around your old world, as I do when I revisit Stoke for football matches, is that you bump into the ghosts of yourself, and sometimes you hear songs from then, floating like the jasmine in your mind.

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie: Out Out Out!

About these ads
This entry was posted in And She Laughed No More, The Ciabatta Years and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Stand Down Margaret

  1. chiffs says:

    That’ll be ‘blowing through the jasmine’ – hope you’re not getting, er, forgetful . . .

  2. Stephen Foster says:

    teehee

Comments are closed.