Rex Tyler's Poetry Blog

Fifteen minutes

a shortish drive

steeper and steeper

in the woods

we survive

the twists and the turns

Old woods

dry stone

Walls, old and crumbly

Adventure calls

out our names

Up the tarmac road

lower Precipice

trail

Gates to be opened

.we mustn’t fail

Came upon a trail

where the wild birds sail.

Heather and oak trees

Upwards we go

looking out at the estuary far down below

where the

salmon and sea trout

still in the flow

go off to the sea

with such glee and content

in their bodily miracles

It being meant

the river, the mudflats in the face of a gale

looking down at the estuary

and the Irish Sea

sharp eyes and tired brows

its the best place to be

fantastic silence

looking out to the sea

bilberries and   heathers

and  the odd tired oak tree

a beautiful blue sky

Up here carefree

the Precipice Walk

a marvellous descent

so much to see

I am beside myself

the time I spent

absorbing it all .

From the mountains and the skies

the great Afon mystifies

its bubbling gurgling energy

delights us all creatively

From a rivulet in Snowdonia

to a graceful rollicking Estuary

into the sea and far away

loved by  the fishes

who come to play

salmon and sea trout

flounder too

the whip of the rod

See the sky so blue

Barmouth  awakens

rumbling trains

a wide expanse of sand

Like veins

carrying oxygen

To journeys far

to

the Irish Mainland

Where others are