To me, all of northern England was filled with exciting mystery, the fog-covered moors, the heavy accents and the slow rhythm of the past.

I am standing on the shore of the North Sea,

by cliffs in the wet grass,

feeling energy flooding toward me,

looking at clouds that pass,

reaching the land and the sea.

Light and shadows are in play,

painting art in array.

The song of the waves roar,

birds screeching

food searching,

wings elevated by the wind gliding.

I let my soul fly into the sky.

Will I be able to open my eyes,

I let my hopes fly.

Will I find golden rays,

filling the red morning sky,

and yes, I know I will try.

Tatjana Webster, England

1966