Above the soft golden sandy beach,amongst sea strewn,weathered, rounded stones, a tangled webb we've woven, emotions of all the life and the pictures of a world and all the stuff played out and the tracts and foot prints we leave are lost, falling down between the rocks and hard places like frozen leaves,only memories remain, well maybe it was only the memories that started the dream in the first place, those tangled ropes can tell the long forgotten tales to future beach combers as they clamber over the shore line in search of an innocent tale to add to a collection and then when in the far distance someone comes down in the dark they will hear the little voices and see the pictures we left behind, amongst the tangled ropes amongst the rounded stones and down between the rocks, you and me having a lovely cheese fondue.