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Social networking spins new-style ley lines,
Linking up my ancient monuments,
Satnav life for those of us
Who never mastered the tricky
Map and compass-work of
Of course I accept
The generous beacon from the classmate,
Who made me laugh past loneliness,
Kept me from disgrace and beatings,
To whom I never even promised to write
When I fell southwards for university.
We catch up with family stuff,
News from the magnetic North;
I keep short and light,
And wonder if I'll ever find a place
To admit my brainflesh memory
Of her, at five a.m.
On a garden camping adventure
Waking me up,
Just me, mind,
Insisting there was a bird singing
'In the Mood',
Which they were playing
In the wind band that term,
- And there bloody was too.
If you've any comments about this poem, Gwen Seabourne would be pleased to hear them.