The River Lune

I breathe as softly as a little bird Like the robin did in Arnside Wood Quick yet calm, who for some food would dare. The view from Arnside Knot is broad and fair The atmosphere is pure, we see trains chug The Estuary of the Kent will never bore Further South the Lune runs like old tears Morecambe Bay endangers, how it floods Behind the Pennines rise, the edges fierce Dent is ancient, mobile phones won’t dare To penetrate the music of its blood Nor bring their tones to hurt the mad March hare Hutton Roof , cathedral, how we stared A gentle hand caressed my heart to good Meek flowers grew in the cracks as safe,as pure How my heart expands and I am glad For mourning heals and I am no more sad I breath as softly as a little bird I tiptoe on the path the peace is sha