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  • Writer's pictureMartin Wardley

The Dale

The bronzen dale lay bathed

Lit gold by the late-day sun

Wonderfully, Gloriously swathed

While the light warns of night-time to come

The fading bracken paints

Vivaciousness stained on the hill

While life lurks low and waits

Silent, muted, secretive and still

The crags both catch and reflect

The last of the outstretched rays

While the cooling fields and becks

Slowly, into monochrome fade

And while lonely stars start to shine

And moon hints of frost on the wing

Isolated windows ignite

And flickers from fires start to sing

As night-time slowly takes hold

And the way ahead grows dim

The traveler wards off the cold

With thoughts of warmth, kith and kin

My journey now draws to a close

And blessed is my heart and my state

I cease for a moments repose

Wrapped up in the dales warm embrace

21st April 2022

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