The roundness of a pebble warmed by the sun

fitting comfortably in your hand.

The coldness of a snowball moulded and firmed

by bright red fingers in soggy gloves.

 

The pain to your feet of a shingle beach

as you stumble up from the sea.

The comfort to toes of a sheepskin rug,

warm on a winter’s night.

 

The sting of salt water on a grazed knee

sore and red from a fall.

The bliss of a hot bath, scented and steamy

after a long hard physical day.

 

The callouses and scars of leathery hands

that have worked hard for 80-odd years.

The softness of skin only a few weeks old

crowned by a toothless smile.

 

The quietness of dawn when day holds its breath

the silence increased by a blackbird’s song.

The noise and intrusion of the strimmers’ roar

as neighbouring men get their gardens in trim.

 

The fear and confusion brought on by dreams

weird, disorientating and real.

The bliss of sleep to a tired body, and a mind

at peace with the world.

© text and photograph Gillian Peall

 

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