A story told in fragmented images

Past ages tumbling down

Ancient pages falling open

Ivy covered walls

And rose laced trellises

A walk down the pale, cobbled path

The fields that stretched away

Stained glass shadows

Filtering through layers of light and leaves

Alone in a room

Words of the heart spoken

Whispered, soft and low

The sound of bells

A solitary candle flame that burns

The hands of unseen ghosts

Each touch conveying a thousand words

An unbroken cliff line

Pebbles underfoot

A kiss upon the wind

There is a sense of incompleteness

And it is already gone

Hiding just out of sight

In the corners of my heart

© Ann Bagnall 2014.



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