ilkley moor (Remove filter)
stonepile
: muddened finger nails we prize
path trodden stones for the cairn
shoeless pattering feet fresh
their voices echo forlorn
curlew cries a'ringing rocks
flying out over brown heather
knuckle bones will not do
only pelvis and cheek
to smack down crunch
powder for we are building
wishes - wishes are not free
Monday 6th April 2015 10:23 pm
Recent Comments
Marla Joy on Lions Land.
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on Dominoes
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Combe Gibbet
2 hours ago
Ian Whiteley on Citizens
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Sashaying to Byzantium
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
3 hours ago
Auracle on Festive FM
4 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
5 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
6 hours ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
8 hours ago