Posts tagged ‘ruins’

24/03/2013

Rylstone

 

Up on the moor, beneath the crag,

A ruin rots its walls in rain,

The bracken shoots break through the rust

Of last years’ growth and crumbling rock.

 

The curlew’s call, reclaim the sky,

Await the screams of summer’s swifts.

This point round which disaster whirls,

Is still and calm and sorrow deep

 

They left the shell and took the heart.

From hanging hopes the stories drip,

From dropping ropes and sheering axe.

A ruin stands its speechless ground.

 

And every spring those curlews call,

There’s freedom here to question all.

 

 

26/01/2013

Circling Wycoller (Walk No. 9)

 

The moors are weighted with this rain.

Another ridge of peat is lain.

The curlews haunt the hills and wail.

The moors are closing round the dale.

 

The hamlet, old as language, turns

Its back on changing thoughts and forms.

Along the beck the pathways creep:

The gritstone pavements, rutted deep.

 

The mansion house, a hollowed shell,

Where spirit fires are burning still,

And owls can echo history’s cries,

Beneath the towering summer skies.

 

The valley sits above its pasts:

A flick of dust which cannot last.