moors (Remove filter)

Blind Date

a scarecrow screams

wood pigeons rise

they can't believe their beady eyes


across the fields

he stiffly strides

years of east winds in his sides


its love he lacks

he's getting old

he wants to come in from the cold


there was a cry

one of his own,

from miles away over walls of stone


what will she think?

is he her type?

imagines her framed ...

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Guisecliff Crag, August

Where the fragrant heather moorland borders

wildwood, by the crags above the river,

the harebells and last fading heads of clover

nod themselves to sleep in drowsy August.

The ling is now full-on and tightly ordered

spikes of tiny flowers blanket over

the landscape like an Emperor’s purple toga

swathed across the heights, but thrice more gorgeous.

The fated grouse may look ...

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On the barren northern moors

lies a dark lonely tower.

No one ever goes there,

not a bird sings or a rabbit jumps.

This is the place of loneliness

and of despair and foreboding.


The sky is a leaden grey and

the wind howls around the tower.

Long lost souls cry for release.

Some may be your friends of long ago

or some lo...

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