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my earliest retrospective Yule Tide memories circa mid 1960s act one

upon contemplating how to access a lapsed half century woolworth didst weigh more'n five and dime afore i hove up existential ante bell and clapper journeys truncated, predicated, conjugated on abundant buoyant chant eyelids gently shuttered while seated in an easy chair, a grant from anonymously disposed rubbish to schlep this accoutrement did enduce a pant cuz, this mid dull ledged papa no spring rooster, and now easily became ensconced with scant exertion enveloped within comfortably numb meditative state tant a mount to hypnosis, which quickly quietly, and quintessentially evoked bliss stirred wordsmith hood succomb to an altered state, analogous to virtual reality, a hiss sans, remembrance of things past, whereby with negligible mental effort wuss sold magical mindbending arch, whereat a (rainbow like emulation mode), this miss sing Whoosh DID NOT require much cerebral exertion from me to pry loose avast treasure trove of locked precious childhood memories visited by hindsight aye could see long since stowed away, yet methought Xmas theme would re mind this baby boomer prithee (encased in nearly inpenetrable thick gauzy cobwebs, and huge... droning spy ware spiders did flee thence, with a figurative brush of hand, a simulacrum curtain pulled back, whence glee son shone vis a vis, cuz, an illusory chink of light shed forth where he upon forgotten one favorite nursery rhyme lyrics, which faux holographic beam recollected as if momentarily carried back to me own ole Virginny hide deem stood atop raised causeway immersed

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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