View allAll Photos Tagged COMING
The Italian car carrier 'Grande Torino' (65,255GRT) approaching her berth in Southamptons Western Docks.
Polaroid Week Autumn 2022, Day 3/2
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Polaroid 195 Land camera + expired Polaroid 669 type film
Sailing past Cerberus. Going back back home and perhaps some fish n chips. Something I'll have to take a rain check on until perhaps the summer!
This is how you break in a new truck. Within a week of purchase I was out having some 4 WD fun near Benson, Arizona.
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The early stages fall start to show in the swamps of Louisiana. I'm really missing the swamps lately. The solitude is like no other. Just cruising around these old trees is so awesome.
Hoping everyone out there is doing well. More new images coming soon. Be well...peace and love.
DT
Ritorno a casa.
Foto scattata dal finestrino dell'autobus.
Ponte sul fiume Polcevera, tra Genova Cornigliano e Sampierdarena ( periferia ovest ) al tramonto .
Si intravede la struttura della Fiumara, Centro commerciale e di divertimenti
Come è bello tornare. Tornare a sentire. Tornare ad amare. Tornare a credere. Tornare a giocare...
Ritrovare se stessi
( Cit.)
Spoookiesss! We got a new release for you that is coming to Salem October 1st!! These awesome shoes will be sure to add to your spooky and witchy wardrobe! These shoes are rigged for Legacy, Maitreya, Kupra and Belleza.
Salem Event
SLURL> maps.secondlife.com/seco.../Prism%20Events/128/115/23
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Ah! often when coming from labour,
When I hear the children play,
There rises within me a vision
Of the school-house far away—
The old, dark, humble school-house,
That stood by the little stream,
That babbled and splash'd in the sunshine,
Or slipp'd into pools to dream.
And, again, as I think of my childhood,
And its circle of sunny land,
Comes the wish to stand by that streamlet,
As of old I used to stand—
Just to listen again to its murmurs,
As I did in that early time,
When my life—before and behind me—
Had the ring of a poet's rhyme:
Or to stand on the bridge with the children,
And give one long, deep shout,
That might sweep from my bosom's chamber
The dust of manhood out.
For I weary and fret at the knowledge
This manhood has brought to me,
And forever look back with a longing
To the glory that used to be.
But vain is that pent-up yearning,
And wish for the summer gleam
That ran through my young existence,
Like the plot through a fairy's dream.
It has sunk away as the sunshine
May fade from the breast of a hill,
And the shadow that now is around me
Is misty and drear and chill.
But still, when I come from my labour,
If I hear the children play,
Then my heart goes back to the school-house
And the village far away.