If you ever watch the rain
Sweep across a great high plain
Of damp green fields and bent-backward trees,
Where seagulls’ wings are taut with breeze,
And gusts of wind cut you in half
Near a Cornish cow and her soft calf –
Almost blown across a field –
Where it seems impossible to build
Cottages of bleak grey stone
That become warm home sweet home –
Then you will know as well as I,
How the sunset warms the sky
When the rain stops and the wind stops –
And an autumn evening drops
Darkness all around –
And there’s never a sound –
Over the great high plain –
All is quiet in West-country lanes –
Only the hedgerow high, wild and free –
Hides the horizon and masks the sea –
That sends the winds across the plain –
And lets you watch Treknow’s grey rain.
Tintagel, Cornwall
From ‘Moonlight on Words’ published by FootSteps Press