Deep in December
it's nice to remember
without a hurt
the heart is hollow.

How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start, When memory plays an old tune on the heart

Back on its golden hingesThe gate of Memory swings,And my heart goes into the gardenAnd walks with the olden things.

Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.

I came to the MRF just to have a bowl outside. I have been indoors all winter and it does take its toll. Its very monotonous and you get bored so you want to come outside and bowl.

Gratitude is the memory of the heart.