rosemary huntley

Morning On Dartmoor

A fragile sun seeps through the mist.
Silver webs shine and quiver.
Breath mingles with silent air in a morning kiss.

Moving shadows midst the gorse,
A soft whinny, a muffled hoof,
A moment and then gone.

Lured forward in a magic world,
We stumble onward, bewitched.
Dartmoor enfolds us for a beartbeat in time

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