Morning in Broomhill

Bristol, UK

Images: George Bale   Words: Aiden Harmitt-Williams

 
 

 

Once the sun had began its wave I had awoken.

Never had I realised the peace morning brings,

Evermore the quiet shall reign king here.

 

Melancholy almost, the way that the

Orifices of daily life come from a place

Rife with silence, eerie as the unknown,

Notwithstanding the fact of the coming brightness.

Irrefutable however is the beauty that

Nestles in between the tranquility of the

Golden sun and the silver moon. 

Internal joy springs forth as I venture into the

New world of today, perfect and untouched.

 

Broomhill never ceases it's pull on my mornings,

Revelling in my presence as I

Open my mind to its naturalistic comforts, my feet

Oscillating quietly so as not to disturb the

Myriad of life hidden in the bushels. But now

Heat and light creep through the clouds above

Initiating the end of today's escape --

Leaving me again with a

Longing for peace furthermore.