Can you imagine a place where the scent of musk envelops the land, where rivers flow into crystal clear sparkling brooks and streams, and where majestic palaces are built in diamonds and emeralds? This is heaven, my favourite place.
As I transcend from earth into the realm of heaven, my body is consumed by its beauty and splendour. A most fragrant scent of musk captivates my entire being. The sky glows in warm tones of gold and copper, and mirrors and absolutely stunning reflection. A brilliantly coloured rainbow of the brightest blues and reds and yellows form an arch across the sky with shimmering gold oozing out of pots at the ends. The backdrop to all of this is a luminous mountain made of glowing white sand that glitters in the distance. This is all too much to take in but I realise that this is just the begging.
As I take a step further, I stop and marvel at the grand trees that line heavens pathway. Each leaf is made of soft sensuous silk which gently flops in the cool, fresh breeze. Hanging from the trees are the most succulent and juice fruit that drip with sweet nectar. Their skins are untainted and unblemished and they hang like glistening chandeliers. There are clusters of tantalizing mangoes and pomegranates, and rosy red apples with the pinkest of pink peaches. Vines full of fleshy, blood red roses and golf ball sizes grapes are found in abundance. Perched on this fruit tree are exotic birds that have the most exuberantly coloured feathers. They sing in sweet, melodious voices that fill the serene air with charming music. Bedecked around the trees lie flowers that have frilly petals that feel like smooth velvet. An array of pinks, purples, oranges and blues captivate my sight and the oh, so calming aroma of lavender, rose and cherry just permeates the entire space.
The Term Paper on Faerie Queen Red Crosse
Edmund Spenser is considered by many to be the next great poet after Geoffrey Chaucer (Renwick, 483). No other poet since Chaucer s time had such a command for both ancient and modern languages nor could his range of learning be touched by his fellow writers of that era (Ward, 117). Some view Spenser as a love and pastoral poet but others consider him to be a classical author (Fowler, 121). ...
Suddenly my ears are cocked. I turn around to the sound of flowing liquid meandering along, following its gentle course. Lo and behold! It is river of rich, golden honey. As I dip my fingers into the flowing stream, my taste buds are treated to a taste of the most delectable, smooth and sugary sweet honey, like youve never tasted before. Dotted along the stream are icy white, pearl encrusted rocks that form stepping stones across the river. To my surprise, another out of this world experience awaits me; a sight that almost knocks me unconscious standing before me are palaces whose walls are made of jewel you can imagine. The lime washed walls are sprinkled with sapphires, rubies, diamonds and emeralds. The pure gold doors enter into rooms the size of gigantic halls which are decorated with brocade curtains that fall from the ceilings to the floor. The furnishings are indescribable; things that your mind cannot conceive.
Wow I feel like royalty! As I lie on a luxurious, feather soft be. I gaze out into the sky and relish the divine beauty of heaven, so peaceful, so serene, so majestic and so exquisite in all its glory. My eyes close and I fall into a deep slumber
