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




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