Lydia’s bathed in gold,
As the sun tumbles down
On a Castle Cornet night,
Her face upturned
To receive applause,
And the dying rosy embers
Of its illuminating light,
Overhead a lone seagull soars,
Lydia’s voice rises high
As if to call down angels,
And beautiful tones
Upon our ears to pour,
While the light fades
Into the harbour’s horizon,
Out through the gates
Towards town we sweep,
Engulfed in the twilight’s chill
Humming and singing,
With music of the Castle Cornet night
And half remembered lyrics,
In our heads still ringing.
Diane Scantlebury
