"Stone walls do not a prison make"

The title is from ‘To Althea from prison’ by Richard Lovelace

From Colour Contrast Continuity

Songs without words hang on my wall,
I sit beside a silent waterfall,
Yet I can hear clearly a mountain’s call,
Echoing past me and down the hall,
The music runs and races over rocks,
Cymbals sound recording the shocks,
Suddenly a solo flute flies with the air,
Giving a virtuoso performance so rare,
Rolling drums greet the notes that dare
To cascade carrying a melody so fair.

From Colour Contrast Continuity

I sit beside an old oak tree,
Singing autumnal airs silently,
A cello plays low and hauntingly,
Waves of music pass over me,
I hear time’s echo ring tubular bells,
And the yearning song of yesterday swells,
A river of memories flow with the beat,
Free-floating leaves linger to lay a soft sheet,
Golden tones drop to sleep at my feet,
A symphony ends with sound solemn but sweet.

From Colour Contrast Continuity

I sit beside a cave looking out,
And hear the echo of danger’s loud shout,
Strong strident chords dispel any doubt,
I hide to avoid an impending rout,
Here the moon’s music plays in the day,
Reflecting sound softly from hard walls in play,
A violin paints a pool of violently bright light,
A viola answers with the vision of night,
I hear and for a moment in time touch the might
That orchestrated such an awesome sight.


My photographs are of prints of photographs taken in the Lake District by J. Sparks.
They hang on my living room wall where my workstation is situated.