Morning in Broomhill
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.