"For windswept bows towards the East,
While cruel over sea and land rose the beast,
Larks singing, Wheatear chase to their base,
Hollies and Haws interspersed the fathomed grey,
Their blood in winter drips from those prickly ones,
Tables eractic of crumbling grey sweeting your delight,
Warm to the back and now it all begins with
Songs and angels everywhere"
Written on 10th April 2018 whilst sat on a limestone boulder on Holme Park Fell with the warm sun shining down to give both warmth to the back and inspiration - Its a true tale of what I can see in front of me NOW