I wrote this for my son who rang while I was walking the Lakeland fells. He wanted to know what it was like!

[More:]

This day Lakeland smiled
and curbed her wild
excess of wind and rain and gale
to tell a gentler tale.

Sun and shadow contrive by chance
to weave a skittish, playful dance
and there upon the velvet fell,
cast a mythic, magic spell.

Bewitched, beguiled,
astonished, as a child,
I heard confided in the grass,
the whispered secrets of the past.

Of pony men that wend their way
on winding tracks, both sure and fey.
Of ancient tribes which on sacred ground
blessed the land with stones around.

Then other sights from near and far,
a tumbling stream, bedecked with stars.
A shower of twisting, spinning leaves,
skipping and dancing on the breeze.

Yet never far from wandering eye,
the silent, stilly waters lie.
A sheet of glass from heaven sent
to mirror back the heart’s content.

And on this day when Lakeland smiled,
daily cares for just a while,
sank beneath the glittering glass
and drowned the sorrows of the past.