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An all too familiar resignation of care. A breif whisper of nostalgia.. Thoughts relapsed and allowed me to diagress as the harsh southernly wind lashed at my brow.
There is a field I know, Barley, hay and wild flower, A space so vast, it creates loops Around me; rolling clouds, and Hollow sounds magnificent, Waiting to be filled with singers Singing, drummers...
I sit upon rocky mountain, like pebbles and I sit there in the silent wind, alone air rushing over me. Cliffs stand tall and slowly crumble. Crisp seaweed crunches. The scene goes on and on.
Rain drops slithered down the cold glass of the window as my warm breath created a milky puddle on its surface. With my pale, nimble finger I traced a jagged heart, it quickly evaporating away.
Walking along the tideline Watching the sun descend Painting each step as I carry on steadily The sky is filled with colours Amber and claret and gold Filling my inner world with cold warmth I...
Out by the lighthouse In the heat and spray I saw the hurricane come this way I knew I should run But my legs became rock And my pulse was quickened An urgent clock On the edge of Montok (And maybe...
I am standing alone on the shore late afternoon looking out in to the seemingly never ending sea. The sun is close to setting, but like me is in no rush to leave this placid scene.
Glistening ruby and amber seaweed litters the ivory beach. Warm, golden sun rays lightly caress the vivid, glimmering world.
As the crisp clear waves,. Wash up onto the sandy shore,. A picturesque view point. Was what I saw. The colours were deep shades of crimson,. And light pinks too,. And even poking out elegantly,.
Pure sand under my feet. I stand and walk away from my seat. I sat under a tree. With the sound of waves and a bee. The blue water sparkles as the sun is going down.
Today i've been down the coast with my dad and two mutts. Saw a bunch of fit skaters roll around and fall on their butts. My shephered loved chasing them up and down the hill.
I step closer to the edge, smiling. The wind crashes into my side, and I stagger to the cliff top.
As the wind brushes past with a peace in her breath And the waves shush onto the shore My face and my heart are warmed by a fire As the hills go on ever more A sweet mountain air that’s as...
The ocean was a thunderous grey but for the horizon, the sun broke through in blades of magnificent light that shimmered on the distant wave faces.
The Isle Of Skye (Skye) is a beautiful place. One may think it's cold, bleak and damp. But sometimes, when the rain is light, one gets the wind in ones face and tiny refreshing splashes of rain.
One summer, long ago my friends and I packed our cars and vans and took the roman road south, heading for the coast.
The wind created a river of sand about two feet off the beach. Fragments of pebbles caught the wind and miniature dunes sprang up at my feet.