The Rowan stoops to listen to our dreams
A red squirrel leaps amongst ivied trees.
The weir stands guard over the river’s source
While waves lap gently on pebbled shores.
For ever we will cherish this day
The fading wisps of ling; a lonely harebell.
The lordly screes, blushing roseate-cheeked
Bowed as we strolled, content and at ease…
All this beauty ours to explore.
Proudly we have walked your quiet bridleways
Breathed the pure sweetness of Nature-
Once, we too, cupped sunlight to our lips
And sipped its warmth in happy revery…