Belmont Moor

i thought i’d try a poem!

Your alone finally, Cotton Grass, Heather, Sedge, Reed, Bracken You walk along the path. Eight red grouse plume across the purple, orange red slopes. You breathe air like neat malt Whisky. A ruined croft could be renovated to provide a future. Silas and Elizabeth long gone to the grave. Divine the lines where peat meets sky. Structure in landscape. You follow the Victorian path. A stream cascades. A Skylark sings eternally

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A woman in black cape and hood, face shrouded in darkness. Beaming incandescent blue fiery eyes. She turns walks ahead, you follow. Purple heather pollen breathed in. At the summit of Grassmoor Hill, she turns herĀ  blue flame neon eyes. Then disappears without a word. She is Brigit, Rhiannon, Diana. You look from the summit at Darwin, Blackburn, Belmont. What can you do with these decaying debauched city’s. You are finally alone. Now walk home, the red grouse flying again in your dreams. Bequeathed hope.