The hills go rolling into the unknown,
Way, way out of view.
As if by an unseen hand they had been thrown,
Into a wide uncharted yonder, new.
A traveller, as he journeys, marches on,
Wandering o'er each tor.
Wishing to remember other days, long gone,
As each tuffet his eager feet explore.
These mounds that over centuries have shaped
Our landscape's varing scene.
With grass these elevations have been draped,
In all the tints, the tones and shades of green.
Unmoving in their grandeur, they stand supreme,
Calm and undisturbed.
Signing the way to many a rambler's dream,
And always looking composed and unperturbed.
Traverse these hillocks, search each hidden way,
From valley floor to peak.
Rise with the dawn and walk o'er soil and clay,
To find the true tranquillity you seek.
A lovely poem, Ernestine. So serene and peaceful. Great to see you back with your classics. Love, Fran xxx
A Peaceful-tranquil scene of beauty, it is in places like these that true inspiration is born, and from here the heart can truely wonder You have so many lovely poems Ernestine I think that one of the reasons I enjoy your poetry so much is because is seems real to me Eitherway..take care and thankyou once again fine lady Love duncan X
The tranquility and enjoyment of my day is in reading a poem as crisp & effullgent as this...So great to see you on-site, young lass! Missed you much! ~ F.j.c.R. ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
No posturing here Ernestine… this is a GREAT poem. Best… CJ