Love Is....
Love is ... Lympstone in 1960, a village girl called Vera, me, a young marine who did not want to be a marine, a real family called Stone, the smell of the Exe, a kiss under a tree during a summer thunder storm, glow worms in the lanes as I walked back from leaving her home, a last kiss goodbye, a silver ciggie case given to me as a present, going back in 2008 and seeing Vera, again a last kiss goodbye as it should have been then, and always love, never forgotten.
The odd couple in the Swan Inn who were both male but not gay and who had a great welcome for me.
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