Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Cloister Island

There is a place within my sleeping mind
where I retreat when I can't face the day.
A place of tranquil rest beneath the shade
of stretching boughs and arching colonnades.

My toes sink into ivory grains of sand,
in the shallows of a crystal lagoon.
It is still as glass, the waves are broken
by a covered marble span of harbour.

Take the walk across the shielding rampart;
between pillars, under the red clay roof.
Lie in dappled shade or gentle water,
or stand and watch the sun quench in the waves.

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