Bracken and wild grass and mossy hills,
and old tin mines that lay in ruins.
The Moors are wild and unruly,
and the cattle graze on the grass.
The granite slabs lay in a pile,
ancient monuments stick out in the landscape.
In the farmyard they work the hay,
and in the courtyard mud they scrape!
The country is vast and unwelcoming in bad weather.
The horses are lined up on their tethers.
The tractors cut the grass and make the bails,
today it is not showering with hail!
The wild landscape is full of history.
With Iron Age huts and burial mounds.
Old iron tracks lay in the grounds,
whilst the land is old to see!
The peaks and woodland to the West,
and the view of the sea and coast at their best.
Stood on the granite slabs in the wind,
is great for the Soul to get their rest!
The colours of the land are calm on the eye,
there are no buildings to see.
A lamb has been born in the wild,
and the lamb is just a child.
The landscape is brightening up from granite to grass,
a stony path leads to the quarry.
And along the way the animals moan,
and the baby bird has flown!
The land is rolling into steeper hills now,
and soon it be time for the pub!
and time to get out of the wellies and coats,
and tuck into some homely grub!
© Copyright 2020 The Coffee Poet
, All rights Reserved. Written For: The Coffee Poet