漂泊的碎语: 萍水相逢, 尽是他乡之客

     Space spreads its wings and at once takes flight or a changeable turn over the swift global –spinning wherever the traveller harbours.  After a short pause the hasty pace had not been completely alerted in the paths of carriages and traffic of Hong Kong, and in so hurried way, my soul was stroked in the summer-sunshine whispers in England. I lost my shoes in England summers.

     Soon afterwards the summer has tiptoed through the exile at the turning corner.  Here now the trails of the summer scents are in a few sips of a certain nostalgia, I learn the drifting fate of life. 

     With the unending waves ebbing in and away,   the wheeling bonds were born on the sea-shore, grow in the quick sands, in a continuous highs and lows of waves, filtering in hour-glass timer of memories, ready to explode in sudden fits of moments for years looking back on end.

    Ebbs of the waves embrace and strike on the shore, throwing passion as it can be; a snap-off sorrow of the fading waves glimmers and fuses and finally vapours through the arrival of the freshness.

To destiny at a solitary, calm and windless sea-shore, from the moment bare-foot,

carefree and guisefree,  for being left in peace, nothing stirs

though slight…..