I grew up in the idyllic community of Chance Cove, Trinity Bay. Several months ago as I was reflecting (as an 86-year old is apt to do) on my growing-up days, I thought I would jot down a few of these "meanderings" in verse. Should bring a chuckle! Reverie It is the boyhood in me that loves the Chance Cove weather, The fog upon the hills rolling down upon the sea, The mist upon the face and the dew upon the heather, The sea waves softly lapping at the beach in minor key. It is nostlagia in me that wanders o'er the barrens, That searches out the ponds and brooks with fishing pole and line, That starts to flight a partridge, frightens rabbit from its warren, That climbs Aunt Alice Island's precipitous incline. It is the schoolboy in me that regales the class with laughter, With cocomalt smeared all about on cheek and nose and chin, With slate and sleeve and spittle to wipe out a spelling error, With teacher standing with a strap to dole out discipline. It is a yearning in me to hold fast the world of boyhood, To savour yet again the rich culture it supplied, To steal away to yesterday where peers and elders stood, To linger there should time allow, there where my heart abides. By Philip W. Brace October 2019   Submitted By: NULL