Half cobbled
Half rough 
The path 
Walked and worn 
Centuries old
Bouncing echos from granite hewn walls
Of wooden clogged boys
Leading sheep
To moorland grass
Between heather and gorse
And Whortleberries 
In tiny purple bursts.  

Panoramic the view stretches wide 
Spans the skies
And takes my mood 
From moorland 
Where the cloud still shrouds
To pale rays under the sky  
Towards cliffs just visible on the skyline- a coastal horizon 
Drawn am I to the sweep of
The hill
The lush grass
Where cattle are yet to graze 
That soaks my shoes
To the triangulation point
Where in awe I stand
The big skies, the grandeur
Our house set just  below 
To the stony track and red stained soil
That grounds my feet 
As I run down
To the sunken lane 
Thoughts tumbling  
Thrown to the air
In effortless pace
Freedom is  given
Space to breathe  
The Wisdom of life
In being renewed. 

chest of drawers
in my father’s house
autumn gathered