tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3185267202941135010.post8350835124699114755..comments2010-01-26T23:54:58.662ZSteve McIntoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04190119318735237859steve.mcintosh@bdris.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3185267202941135010.post-43844862980816622282010-01-26T23:54:58.662Z2010-01-26T23:54:58.662ZWinter in St. Ives<br /><br />Looking up at the egg shell white skies<br />Wisped with misty wintered greys<br />A rainy postcard panorama<br />Of a certain earthly amaze.<br /><br />Pulling my coat around my mouth<br />The battling chill crowns my head<br />Coastline gulls waddle on the mirroring wet sand<br />Swept from the unforgettable colours of the oceans bed.<br /><br />Into restaurants and into coffee houses<br />The rare few haste to keep warm<br />An unique contrast of summer<br />With all its feverous, raucous swarm.<br /><br />Gazing out at the stately homes stacked on rustic mossy rocks<br />Dark green trees thread themselves in the thrilling fabric of the hills<br />Hearing the bluster against the many boat masts<br />While an intoxicating calm in me quickly distils.<br /><br />This is a place so at ease with its own hibernation<br />Merrily exposing a different character that is wondrously undressed<br />And as I take in the rows of closed shops<br />The feeling left isn’t one of emptiness but one of being blessed.<br /><br /><br />© Daniel NorthAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com