Rain coming down and grey the day,
With cloud there is no shadow;
To the sun, “Come back”, we say,
“Kiss mountain top and hollow”.
Oh! Land of the deer and eagle,
Perennial gorse to live and die;
Oh! Land of the scenic and regal,
The tick and tormenting fly.
Damp swirling mist on the moor;
All waiting warmth from above;
The Fox follows delectable spoor,
Of one that he does not love.
An antler forlorn on the heather,
Tool of encounters past;
Nearby an abandoned feather,
Lying where it has been cast.
Summer will rescue and sweep,
The hill, the valley and dell;
For the farmer crops to reap,
Produce for him to sell.
The perpetual circle of life,
Embodied in plant and bone;
The Monarch at rut roars in strife;
Omnipotent he stands alone.
Monty Alexander 25.10.98