Camera to the eye, projecting majesty onto a small rectangle

to be shared. Grandmas and aunts, in the midst of wedding plans enjoy

Fountains Abbey, where nature crept into man’s work.


Funny how the ravages of time here don’t depress you

as you climb crumbling walls, poke your head through

doorless holes and find a room with a few faded tiles.


Stained grass knees from sitting

in the sunshine of a pane-less window.


Wandering away from Fountains Abbey

to sit by the nearby brook. I take my glasses off

and imagine the sparkling light flitting across

the rippling water is an eddy of fairies, come to play

amongst the flowers and faded stone.