Complex perspectives on a drifting dawn cloud constant sky. The straight line light of the de Mille God searchlight swinging and searching. Moving in jazzed jumps across this round hilled rump down country. There must be history on top of those hills,she said, long ago and far away, outlined. Dun and rampart fort, sleepy sheep cropped and water torment torrented. Hills of pipe music played. Up on the downland. She said the sailing ship passing storm was rising upwards. More and more heard of the heating bowl shaped sky and wished music of old English composing. As larks ascending, piling mood one upon another.  Industrial, in Blake's ancient times, armoured and engineered barouque architecture clouds. Divine buttressed soft sculptured structures. A  high place for the student of these things to draw and paint and play at being the last century's last romantic. A suitably clothed individual with elements of elegant peace generation glamour. Flared and fitted, long haired and expanding bohemian headbanded. Velvet dandy with stripes and political patches. Sketchbook naive farce face  filled with discordant verse for lost loves that hardly happened and yet still found certain songs to admire. Games of nervous energy that retained the sweetness of past writings in those same scented books. Especially when pulled reluctantly from the courted secret hiding places of old dreaming men. Folk song dressed and storied. Wicker men and corn dollied dalliance. Festivals and well dressed for the time.

Chalk giants with erections and dragon horses stylized stepping high from the pages of Albion's mythical mercurial majesty.

Long skirts of petticoated flower material to rise your warm hand up inside whilst waiting.  Covered with creamed  sight. Curling thigh hair that would not be shaved or shown, only tentatively touched. Hair and flowers to hold up in pastoral stacks of harvested fields. Beads and shared liquids, strange magazines and scented rolls. How many lines does it take to draw me? She said and laughed.

The into my heart accepted the sane seasons reasons for the music so charmed. Wistful tears of strings that once were echoes of lovely memories as she sings. Come live with me and be my love and be forever grateful. See sighted birds rise in the distance of days thunder storm ending and love made in the presence of rustic life. Calmly was once preoccupied precious and is now only cold thought. Ah, my one and one where are you dancing.? .