The Moor of Memories
By Lila Howes
On the moor of memories, I sat in the blustery wind,
As I looked at the fresh ferns,
As I heard the whispering, wind whistle through my ears
As I felt the ragged, ruined rocks underneath my feet
On the moor of memories, I sat in the blustery wind,
I sat straight, on top of a ruined rock
I looked out over the rounded hills of hope
And out at the brilliant bright blue sky
As I put my hand on the rock
I could feel centuries of history buried inside
On the moor of memories, I sat in the blustery wind,
Watching the peaceful ponies plodding through the ferns
As I saw the many mighty shades of green:
The brownie, spikey, green of gorse,
The well, trodden green of grass
The murky green of moss
On the moor of memories, I sat in the blustery wind,
As I sat on top of a ruined rock
The wild wind blew all my senses away
As I ran down the side of the moor of memories, I felt free.