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Thursday, 30 May 2019

Towards Quietness

The perspiration sits with me
A short hike through the woods
A nature trail, beside the Colden Water
After walking along
An immense man-made path
Presumably for the workers
To make their way to the mills

What I hear now
From the peace of Lumb Bank
Is a scrambler bike, its rider
Possibly risking life and limb
Riding through the trees, over
The rocks, just as Arthur Lampkin
I never did take such a risk

Hornets in the sweet-williams
Mesh of fennel in sunlight
Butterfly inspects my wrist
Soon it will be mid-September
When we will be in Ibiza
Climbing the stone steps
Up to the castle and the cathedral

But before that I have to tell you
That I know so much more now
Yet I also know so much less
Take that mountaineer poet
Who goes to places where I never will
Or that quiet gentleman
Whose prayer poems I cannot equal























Happenstance in Heptonstall
Poems Started at Lumb Bank
Arvon 2018