One day high up on the moors
the sun was starting to rise
I thought at first I could see
lakes and in the distant sea.
Then realised I was above
the clouds. It was peaks
of hills that poked their
heads out over the haze.
It was like a new land
showing itself bathed
by sunlight I looked
around in amazement.
Gradually things came into focus
valleys appeared like magic
each one with its own splendour
Deer and ponies grazing below me'
Birds singing in tree tops close by
A stream fills the lake and fish leaping
so full of joy and life for the new day
I sat, watched, delighted by all the sights.
The clouds rolled by, lifting up higher
I was truly right above it all, on top of the world
As I drove home I dropped down lower and lower
to the bottom of the valley under the clouds.
The rain clouds lashed at me no sunshine here
it did not clear just more and more cloudy rain.
Yet I knew that on the top of Exmoor
It was a bright sunny day no rain up there
Categories:
exmoor, bird, day, life, sun,
Form: Free verse
There is a night so starry bright
I recall with such pleasure
it was in the middle of summer
the day had been a hazy hot one
I was in the wilds of Exmoor
sat quietly enjoying the solitude
as dusk lengthened into night
so the heavens light up with moonlight
No human noises up here to intrude
listening I hear first the sheep
odd whinny from a horse or two
as my ears attune I pick up much more
The whisper of wings as bats and owls fly by
mystical shapes appear from the mundane
I am transported and transfixed by it all
the crowning glory a stag backlit on the hill top
ah night you do enchant my very being
I love to roam or ride your shadowy countryside
to see the world in your stunning luminous light
the shades of which change by the hour
night I honour you and your mystic way
here in your dwelling my head I lay
and watch in wonder the unicorns
as at play they stray my dreams
written 01/12/2014 by Shadow Hamilton
title: Into Night's Dwelling
contest: Into Night's Dwelling
Categories:
exmoor, night,
Form: Free verse
He lived too long and needed to be culled
The Emperor of Exmoor, the nine-foot tall stag;
His country-wide fame may have got him lulled
Into believing that he was invulnerable to be bagged
As magnificent dinner which would proudly enable
Visiting dignitaries at Her Majesty's table
To feast on the flesh of this royal beast;
No - the stag was too old to be relished as meat.
It was his horns that the stalker had in mind
As a trophy to excel the best of its kind;
The emperor succumbed to a well-aimed shot
From a licensed assassin who felled him on the spot.
The Emperor, Pharoah-like, partial to incest
Endangered the continuing survival of the fittest;
Bested by a young buck in a recent wrestling match
His reign had just ended as lord of his patch.
Categories:
exmoor, animals
Form: Iambic Pentameter