Walk to Lydia Bridge

An ancient bridge 
Spans moorland gorge
Deep running 
Clawing at the rock;
Smooth worn boulders 
Undercut 
And crystal pools 
Dark hollows block;
A cobbled path will take us still,
Smooth worn by constant tread;
Age old route beside the river 
Leads up to Lydia Mill.
Moss covered rocks line the way
Tumbling along its line;
Trees overgrown and leafy shrubs
Restrict this view of mine.
Sheep though graze beneath the boughs
To shelter from the rain,
Tucked in and hidden well
Till showers have passed again.
The way,though short,is special still
What waits is worth a view;
The water tumbles down with force
Primeval smells of  damp earth ensue. 
The climb is short 
An ancient stile
Of stone is at the ridge;
Beside darkened pools the final task 
To reach this ancient bridge.