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Wednesday, 4 January 2017

The Castle

The Castle stands, alone on a hill,
Somewhere in space and time,
Grey walls that face the world,
Face the weather, face time’s passing,
Imperturbable, aging but not caring.

The rain has stopped, the wind has died,
Calm reaches from the Castle walls,
Washing down the hillside,
Rolling gently to the Valley below.

A bird sings in the Valley,
Somewhere in another World,
But the sound does not intrude,
It takes wing alone and flutters
Softly round the Castle Halls,
A butterfly of life’s sweet song.

In the distance the Sun, milky
In the Spring’s cold haze,
Casts soft fingers out from
Distances almost unknown,
And their soft, tender warmth
Touches the stone which has held
For five hundred years.

She sits, her back against the wall.
Peace is etched passively on her brow
And fine-spun threads of gold
Catch the sun, reflecting,
As her hair moves softly
In the quiet breeze.

She pulls her cloak around her,
Dark pools of eyes throwing back
The images of the Lake
Far below in the Valley.

A smile touches her mouth,
Gently caresses her lips
Into the softest of curves
As she wanders peacefully
Through the corridors of her mind,
And the corridors of time.

For a second the air is clear,
Sun warms her face like a lover’s kiss.
Her smile broadens and her face glows
With inner peace and joy
From a moment out of time,
When she is one with herself,
And true to that.

And that fair face, as her smile grew,
It outshone the Sun.
It glowed and every plain and curve
Was seen in living beauty,
A joyous flash, a shout of life
Against the Castle wall.

She shook her head and rose at last,
Leaving her contemplation,
Her hair aglow, her heart refreshed,
Her beauty like a cloak about her,
Her peace almost tangible,
And the air about the Castle
Quivered as she stretched,
Gazed once more on yesterday
And then, turning away,
Strolled peacefully down
Towards the Valley.

The Castle stood, alone again,
The grey walls strong.
The rain came, the wind came,
Time and tide came.
She was gone.

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