Chalk undulates across Southern England
Hills, gentle yet steep
Can be overtopped by clay peppered with flints
So treasured by the old folk

As old as the hills is true here
The chalk is a two hundred million year ocean
Stiffened and folded over time
By our living planet

Several human species
Have hunted  in these valleys
Have dug into and sculpted these hills
Have left their ghosts for us to trace

The ancient monuments we treasure
Hill forts, stone circles, long barrows
Are but modern remnants
Compared to the first folk

My hills have deep roots


◄ After the Dance

Our strange stay here on Earth ►


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Kim Whysall-Hammond

Tue 30th May 2017 19:27

I have been entranced with the ancient relics left in Wessex since a child. I'm glad you liked my attempt to show what still fascinates me.

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keith jeffries

Tue 30th May 2017 11:03

Kim, this beautifully crafted poem entrances me into a realm of history the portals of which lie at our very doorstep, Thank you indeed. Keith

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Kim Whysall-Hammond

Mon 29th May 2017 10:17

Thank you Colin!

<Deleted User> (13762)

Sun 28th May 2017 08:55

oh gosh I love this I do - it has everything I need in a poem and having grown up in Sussex between the coast and South Downs my mind is instantly transported back to the childhood landscape that was my outdoor PlayStation or Xbox - before any of that stuff was invented.

beautiful - my kind of poetry Kim. Ta.


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