The magic of words .
Something that has held me enthralled from when I started my first story book.
Those wonderful masters weave a web of emotion or mystique or fear around you .
They drown you in a plethora of feelings and transport you into a world unseen .
The tree beyond the restless window pane caught in the wild English winds across the Cliffs that spell an aura of the unseen as
the moors define the darkness of a doomed obsessive love of the truly stubborn ....
or the mist in the heathen Ville that plays an equal part in her downfall curtaining her refusals with fear or the sound of churning butter I sure could hear as they fell in young uncertain love ....
....the divine bond they shared as they clung to each other amidst the raging waters of the final floods over the Mill, beyond the distortions of form they won over ravages of nature with the fine formed bonds of blood etched deep in their souls...
....the slime on their soulless smiles as they behold the Woods and spell out their foresight with stealth or the stench of fear as she washed her hands with wide sightless eyes of the damned ,
or the blush in her cheek as her bruised Pride thought naught of her fallen heart as she shed tears in denial or the laugh of the youthful foolishness I heard between the lines as a rebellious maiden beheld the splendour of the red and whites
... the walls he erected around his slain Scarlet heart as he withstood every passionate stab of a tigress who fought to be free of her very feelings,
Every magic drew me in and still transport me into the world in their immortal eyes.
Thanks to every story reader, every story teller, the passionate wise souls with incredible love and knowledge who led me into the worlds they got a glimpse of .
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