Chris Wainwright Poems
- A Place To Be High upon lonely barren hill, Where so few ...
- My Silent Prayer My silent prayer I keep to me Never to be ...
- Have Faith From that very first moment I saw her Walking out...
- My Rival So, what defines a rival? What makes a great ...
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A Place To Be
High upon lonely barren hill,
Where so few seek, all but season's time stand still
The winds blow fresh or with bitter chill
Tis a man's true exile
Tis far away from city sprawl
This desolate place where few feet fall
Free from the echoes, hard living can trawl
All be it, just for a while
Up there the sunrise brings the dew to its knees
And parades a patchwork of fields with scattered trees
Hedgerows shimmer on cue to gentle breeze
Birdsong heralds a bright new morn
Behold a view where seven counties collide
Distant roads woven into old ...