A Deserted Village
An Architect would no doubt weep
at the maze of tumbled rock found
sad, lonely, lost beneath the sweep
of beaten bracken paths. Summer
*
brings bright silence with each new dawn.
The shadow of Hound Tor retreats
revealing a hamlet, not mourned,
resting in natures verdant shroud.
*
Man forgotten, sheep and goats graze,
skylarks spar with zephyrs over
wild flowers, wild herbs, wildlife. A place
of plague, abandoned, lost in thyme.
Recent Comments
 | hana on Succotash |
 | Will on Nairn |
 | Joyce Kopp on Nairn |
| Vikingr | Will Vigar on Lullaby | |
| Pulsar | Will Vigar on Stanlow |
Recent Comments