I visit, once again, my chosen place of worship, a fragrant repository of healing, built by the fair hand of nature’s bounty.
I have named it The Cathedral of the Blue Pool.
Through the lush foliage forming the wooded cloister in which I stand, I view the tranquil, gently rippling water below, a vast, liquid altar at which to kneel and pray.
When the voices of my inner demons become too strident, when their devilish promptings threaten my sanity, I repair to The Cathedral of the Blue Pool.
It is a sacred place, where foul urgings cease, cleansed by the unspoken prayers of mother nature.
GEOFFREY LINDLEY, Clayford Avenue, Ferndown
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