I got ill last week so there was no report on my trip to Wales the week before. We headed down the day before Good Friday and I spent most of it with my sister in Cwmbran putting all my dad's phtos in two fat albums. We needed to do it together to ascertain who was who, what few could be thrown and to agree to put my parents's annual holiday snaps in a box. Nice time, though a bit taxing by the end.
Ev'ry time I see your face,
It reminds me of the places we used to go.
But all I've got is a photograph,
And I realise you're not coming back anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment