Without Rhyme Or Reason
105,134 poems read
Heather Clad Meadows
Deep in the forest where the tall trees grow,
Steep the mountain path; damp, long and winding,
Onwards and upwards; take rest as I go,
Sunlight dappling through pine trees unbending,
My breathing laboured, I halt; do I dare?
Determined the force driving me on,
Climbing, still climbing, how cool is the air,
The shelter of the forest all but gone,
Much higher now; dense woodland I roam,
The purple heather clad meadows in bloom,
Look down on the loch so far from home,
Cloudless blue skies disregards forest gloom,
Thistles stand proud where the red deer run freely
So high on a hill by the loch I love dearly.
Linda Stuart Harnett ©2010.
I have been busy travelling around various parts of my beloved homeland and viewing it all with fresh eyes, my love for it never diminishing.
I hope you enjoy and accept my apologies for the amount of photographs in the slide show, I found it really difficult to choose which ones to keep in.
I left my spirit high on those hills...they make you feel alive!