The old gate (the edge of the moor below Cosdon Hill)

For me “NO HUNTING”
Says it all
A peaty path
Where shadows fall
Across Dartmoor
A wooden gate
A dry stone wall
Whose crumbled state

Gives
passers by
A chance maybe
To stop and ponder
And to see
And feel
The peace and charm
And know
How the light here
Helps wild things grow

Abundance gifted
Naturally
A picture postcard
Constancy
It’s where eyes brighten
And minds reflect
Where ideas
possibly collect

From The inner mind
the inner child
In all of us
who feel the wild
Natural landscape
everywhere
And Instinctively
begin to share

The philosophy
the ethic here
“NO HUNTING”
yes it’s very clear
Life is sacred
There will be
such potentiality

Meadow pipits
skylarks too
Snipes and Buzzards
sailing through
Bats and mice
a balance set
Uncontested
which does let

A genuineness
authenticated
Ponies, sheep all erstwhile stated
Perhaps a polecat we may see
And an adder on a sunlit spree
For Wild Wood Lane we met today
And Surprisingly to you I say

A little rhyme for our first time

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