Peter Morriss Poet Rhyme

Spirits of the Wild

SPIRITS OF THE WILD

The spirits of the high peaks
are calling-
Calling me down the vale,
The clapping winds are calling,
calling me through a landscape’s
wintry pale.

The spirits of the high rills
ripple their pebbled song of
the free-
Come again, come again,
beckoning, calling me-
You wanderer of our lonely
wilds,
Come join with us, embrace
with us, share the peace and
solitude with us for a while.

Come to where our sunsets
blaze their glory,
Where our silvered heights
to open skies scribe their
story;
For the splendour of our
wild ways you were born
to roam carefree,
And the wanderlust you nurse
within your heart, once more
our call will set free.

		Copyright  Peter Morriss 27.02.2016

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Beata Agustin October 16, 2025 at 11:58 PM Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts through your unique poetic style. Meanwhile, I greet you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Be blessed.