The stuff of dreams

Quiet Night Thoughts

Before my bed
There is bright moonlight
So that it seems
like frost on the ground;
Lifting my head
I watch the bright moon,
Lowering my head
I dream that I'm home.

Li Po (or Li Bai) 8thC. Chinese poet

Fortunately for me I am home. It was a long day. The last changeover in the holiday cottage. Shopping. Picking blackberries. Back ache.

Son Huw spent the day leafletting for the People's Assembly demo at the Tory Party conference next weekend but he was happy to conjure up a meal and at 10pm we all sat down to Chinese pork dumplings. The stuff of dreams.