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Primrose Hill Remembered

On reflection, I find myself within these walls for having played the game of mans false testimony, I chose to take the blame. I asked a great teacher, one of so many, to share with me their love, and all the Angels, good and bad flocked from above. We battled night and day" don't cry my child" they say" we are here right beside you, to help you find your way".
I got the call from housing, Cameron was not in, and a politician left a message " send her to recycling". Well, the polish chaps that do the brigade of bins, they said to me these very things in the Borough of Westminster City, that really likes to sin. They said " All you mums and eco warriors washing out your tins, its all a waste of time my dears, it all goes in the bin".
"Oh my Oh my, well I never that certainly cannot be true, repeat repeat those words to me and be sure" and they said " yes,its true". I cycle off and think like the warriors do for the sake of me and you.
Off I cycle to see Rudolph Steiner and choose his free book of green. Truly impressed by the words of Janey Lee Grace, blessed by the smile of her genuine and happy face I begin to dream a dream, an imagination, a thought that sews so serene into our tapestry of life, a valley of a colourful scene. What would she think of our local state of play, I believe she would get a protest immediatly underway. The true eco warriors pitch their intent, not on the square of Parliaments tent, instead I am sure the warriors of love would build a wooden tree, a house of ecology and invite you all in for a magical mystery tour...Come this way...follow me...
And now I travel with bicycle to London's Sharpleshall Street to a place called Chalk Farm Library where all the good good people meet. Stopping for a moment or two I contemplate my view, a mother paddles with her giggling duckli g brood, the gentle ripples calming my mood. I look to the skies that breathe a fresh breath of air, bringing me back to earth for a simple natural smile, I like to wear. The sun breaks through the clouds, a ray of hope I see within the paragraphs of a Legend, archeology.

A poetical and impressive woman, Jacquetta Hawkes her name and Dr Christine Finn delievers a message to share with us all, the true essence of timeless fame. There she stands, Jaquetta Hawkes and her merry band, a glass of chilled wine balanced in her unique and graceful hand. She captures radiance, a beauty for all to see, the shapes in a new landscape in the clouds of prosperity. For a moment in time, I guess being at the top of Primerose Hill, I am doing pretty fine, glancing a portal of Heaven on Earth that chalks a skeletal map, a Legend lest we forget how precious A Land is.



Copyright © daisy reilly

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