Moorland Solitude

The spongy earth springs underfoot
Concealing all below;
You mind your way,
This eerie day,
You're careful how you go.
 
As mists roll off the craggy moss
Concealing all above;
You find your way,
This eerie day,
About a place you love.
 
A speck of rain anoints your head
Concealing thoughts inside;
You see your way,
This eerie day,
To let your qualms, subside.
 
The heather forms a carpet here
Concealing peril's traits;
You pick your way,
This eerie day,
Where a quaggy snare awaits.
 
The day is cool, the wind is sharp
Concealing mortal sound;
You hear your way,
This eerie day,
Ear firmly to the ground.
 
Envisage ghosts of people past
Concealing souls, admired;
You wend your way,
This eerie day,
Where Bronte's were inspired.
 
But you are where you need to be
Concealing troth secure;
You hide away,  
This eerie day,
In the solace of the moor.