The sharp, sweet taste of russet apple,
the texture of the skin.
The smell of sandalwood soap.
The refreshing delicate taste of Earl Grey Tea cleanses the palette -
The scent and story of old leather and polished oak -
The grandeur of it all.
The old lady with grey hair, tied in a bun, wearing a beautiful long black silk dress with pearls around her neck: the epitome of elegance: Refine, restrained and enchanting.
The old man with grey hair at the Victoria and Albert museum how he seduced my eyes.
The green fields,
The undulating hills of Devon.
The railway journey from Exeter to Plymouth,
The scent of crushed ferns and nettle…walking along river banks.
The colour scarlet melts into sunsets.
The view across the Thames from Waterloo Bridge -
The dirty brown water.
The old cafes in the East End selling unappetising eels,
The rock formations along the Cornish coastline,
The Worn-out moulded mountains of the Pennines,
Serendipitous: the beauty of the words.
The coastline of Wales, the Castles and ruins, bays and shores a journey into the past,
The medieval splendour of clouds cascading down the craggy outline of Snowdonia into the valley beneath -
unspoken treasures -
seduces the eyes.
To the temptress that sets fires alight to
Heathlands and Peat Boggs.
Sandwich Bay and Headland,
Fields of heather across the Moors,
The tranquillity of Lulworth Cove.
The haunting beauty of the pebbled beach of Dungeness,
The desolate sands of Morecambe bay walked on quiet days -
The rustic charm of Silverdale.
The grandeur of Edinburgh.*
The sombre and overbearing melancholia of Glasgow on rainy days,
The harrowing bleakness of Redcar.
The surreal beauty of the industrial wasteland of Teesside viewed from the Moors.
Ohh, but the moon In the sky looms a silver spectre.
Of a castle set amidst a barren landscape,
Thunder! — the sound of the applause.
Of dark knights and sombre prince’s,
The weight of these walls darkened and mellowed with age.