deepundergroundpoetry.com

Weekend eve

     
We stood the moorland hill    
watched the quilted valleys    
green and yellow harvest    
midst bracken-brown and heather    
winberry fruits and rabbits    
silent blue and clouds.    
Weekend eve drowsy pubs at four.    
Cattle lowing in the valley bottoms    
the tiring sun sinks below Long-Mountain    
shivers down our spines autumn mellow    
red-kite one last glide 'til night.    
Call back the dog we've had our day    
whisper as we go, do not disturb    
tread soft the curlew sleeps    
white upon the hill sheep    
watch us on our way . . . .    
silent as the darkening sky.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published | Edited 11th Sep 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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