I want to paint

I want to paint….

the  ghostly moonlight leaking through the window pane and bathing the room in a hazy silver,

the moment where raindrops cascade and the emergency as people run to escape it, although it always catches up,

the memory of the joyful jingle; an ice cream van as people are pulled towards it by an invisible force- desire,

the sound of a rampageous rush hour in London as cars jerk and jostle elbowing each other out of the way and chaos reigns from above,

the sensation of the waves as they splash and splutter on the African shoreline, washing up an everlasting supply of salted water in a continent familiar with thirst.