Climbing Godolphin. - Poem by Fay Slimm
The hill loomed ahead, - - not covered today
In gloom, but washed with a bright Springtime sun.
Surrounded by silence and winter's grey
Tussock coat, I embarked on ascent, running
A little late I forgot Iron Age Mounds
And went for the top, the plateau with views.
From staggering height, and reaching boundaries
Of ocean to sea, spectacular blue
Horizons, which daunt on perusal, assailed
My eye. Celtic and anciently green, vistas
Of beauty, well worth the climb, but detailed
And soundless, screamed to be seen not misted
In driz\zle but as now, in Cornish Spring.
Zephyred breeze sings, and catkined trees waving
Their dainty lamb's sun-speckled tails, mingling
With gorse sporting it's yellow, I savour
This moment on top of my world, today
I have 'conquered' Godolphin - - hooray! ! .
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