Inspiration - Imogen Crest at Pilgrims Well

A surreal picture of a bright red rose,

full of promise, leads my way, and

I seek out my camel, Shalimar,

and we make friends. I shell some peanuts

from my dark travelling cloak pocket and feed him

from my palms. The noise is the lilting

kind, full of rush and anticipation, as

other travellers sort their mounts and

possessions. Mine are held on my

person, a lute strung across my back,

a book, a quill and ink, a Byzantine bead

necklace threaded on thin cord, a leather

satchel packed full with coin, dried fruit and nut,

an old sepia coloured map from my forebears,

poetry books and an icon of the great

mother and father. The road rises ahead in my mind

full of promise and anticipation, of what will be

seen and known. I join my other companions

for the road in greetings, then amiable silence. I think

of the rose again, the brightness of the red...

and beneath my cloak is a robe of

many different colours, like jewels.

copyright Monika Roleff 2005.