What are soft? The flutter of a butterfly’s wings soaring through the sea salt summer breeze, the voice of a lonely child, the dough of bread shimmering gold waiting to be baked.
What are rough? The scaly textured skin of a furios fire breathing dragon, hearing the words slip out of someone’s mouth saying you need to start over, the crunch of crispy autumn leaves laying on the pavement tempting all the children to jump.
What are hot? Freshly baked cinnamon being taken out the oven, a kelpies breath after racing its friend, a summers day on Troon beach dripping in and out of the water.
What are cold? Your car when you hop in on a cold winters morning, The touch of Jack Frost when he swooshes past you spreading his frost bite, the puddle frozen over at Barassie slowly cracking each day.
What are sour? The juice of a lemon as it drips onto your warm chippy, the sharp sting of a nettle then the never forgiving nipping pain, the twisted pain after your friend tells you their moving away.
What are sweet? When an elderly person gives a joyful smile, a bite full of soft candy floss bought of a fun fairground stall, a spoonful of sugar handed to you from Mary Poppins as she soars away with her umbrella.