Shallowford

Hard round folds of green billow down to a cleft
A  valley in the high moor
Ahead, a quilt of brighter hue lies piecemeal
Where wild moor has been tamed
As we walk, a second valley reveals itself
A child of fields not moor, sweet and wooded
At the meeting of the valleys we will turn to leave
The quiet high places, these hard round folds of green

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

We are walking on Exmoor this week

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