A poem found in one of my vintage books: Dated 1955, My fingers I crossed, my mind in a state. Leo’s the sign, but, oh dear, what’s the date? Frustrated I was but I breathed a sigh when low and behold. A black cat caught my eye. See home to me Kate, the wish is ——— do — with the date. Signed, Kathleen O’Malley. (Taken with Instagram at Secret Garden)
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