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 nature’s 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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This entry was posted on February 6, 2018 by Will in Poem, poem of the day, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged #news, @itswillvigar, dartmoor, geology, hamlet, hound tor, landscape, mediaeval village, Poem, poem of the day, poet, Poetry, Will Vigar.Shortlink
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