The Stirling staircase cascades down its landings.
Descending you approach
as in one long David Lean take of Sherif Ali approaching the well
my eyes are held blinkless.
Gradually a figure forms
wrapped against the winter chill
the sheep’s skin jacket crowned with a leather hat
adorned by multi-coloured pheasant feathers.
As we pass
from below its brim shine two chestnut eyes
as dark as the midnight sky
as bright as the moon leading the traveller home.
My north, my south, my east, my west, my anchor
Forever I am bound to them and warmth of their accompanying smile.
© Sheila Ash 19th October 2015
See a great set of photos of this iconic building