Moorland Solitude
The spongy earth springs underfoot
Concealing all below;
You mind your way,
This eerie day,
You're careful how you go.
As mists roll off the craggy moss
Concealing all above;
You find your way,
This eerie day,
About a place you love.
A speck of rain anoints your head
Concealing thoughts inside;
You see your way,
This eerie day,
To let your qualms, subside.
The heather forms a carpet here
Concealing peril's traits;
You pick your way,
This eerie day,
Where a quaggy snare awaits.
The day is cool, the wind is sharp
Concealing mortal sound;
You hear your way,
This eerie day,
Ear firmly to the ground.
Envisage ghosts of people past
Concealing souls, admired;
You wend your way,
This eerie day,
Where Brontë's were inspired.
But you are where you need to be
Concealing troth secure;
You hide away,
This eerie day,
In the solace of the moor.
Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022
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