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All around mountains stare down,
Dwarfing Bleancwm with a silence,
Our Brockway walk is to begin,
Unusually no song  birds to sing!
The steep incline to the top,
Plenty to look at, while the legs stop,
Waterfalls, horse medows, rocks,
Plenty to hear as the mind resets,
Water crashing, Water relaxing,
Breaking the silence of the mountains gaze,
The reward, a look over Bleanrhondda, 
Where no doubt the birds have gone,
To join the people and souls in song,
Perfectly lined pine forest, not been touched,
God's home made compost already mulched,
All the trees eerie stand to attention,
One or two fallen, needs to be mentioned,
Further along the roman settlement so high,
The Romans must have thought it was the sky,
As the bikes in the distance come close and raw,
Tearing the path to its core,
All around old man's beard graced the trees,
A mountain that keeps on giving,
Another waterfall so tall, it's having a ball,
Stunning walk back to the car park, 
Where the past will always last,
Mining everywhere the spirit is there,
When the spell was cast who thought it would last,
Mountain with a heart beat,
Rhigos you have gave us a treat.

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