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
Copyright © Peter Morriss | Year Posted 2018
|