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
Copyright © Mary Braithwaite | Year Posted 2022
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