Moorland Sonnet Poem by C Richard Miles

In solitude, surrounded in my course
By musty scents from humus–heavy floor
I tracked my way along the misty moor
Through bracken, heather, bilberry and gorse.
The lapwing, curlew and the twittering lark
Composed their symphony to cheer my way
To seal the promise of that golden day
As evening shadows fell and dusk drew dark
But gladness fled and ghostly spectres rose
To fill the air with mystery and fear
Which chilled the blood and made the hackles rise
As hooting owl spoke sombre, sober prose
To steal romance and rhythm from my ear
And take the treasure from expectant eyes.