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.

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