Whatever this place was,
I can see it,
Ladies in intricate gowns,
Their waists pulled in waspishly.
I can even smell the must,
Of a long forgotten era,
The waft of food from the kitchen,
Mingled with the sweat from the near by stables.
I can hear it to,
The shouting of a man for a servant,
The joyful chattering of children,
The bark of a bouncing dog.
I can touch the stone walls,
It crumbles under my fingers,
Small grains tumbling over my shoes.
I slowly open my eyes
And it is all gone, I am back to reality,
The past temporarily forgotten again.
By Lucy Williams