this land where I live and love
From the monastic dug lakes
deep in the sands and in the woods
where Horse and I trot
across the mystery of sullen hills
in a dumb dwindling light
that strokes an ancient panorama,
young girls pass on by
voices and laughter a mist in my ears
and their beauty wraps around my heart
before fading light dips beyond the dunes
and the sun drops behind Crooksbury Tor
stands a deer snouting dizzily
sniffing at grass grown ruined homes
of other creatures, his eye fixed steadfast
as if frozen by a hunter in this wood,
his horns proud as pine cocks
crowing from the top of Frensham Mount
their necks stretched taut in moonlight
in this land where I live and love.
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