On the N.Yorkshire Moors – Pen & Ink … WHB
The Hills of my Childhood
The hills of my childhood
Mountains to me
Remain in my memory
And still I can see
Their contours throbbing
Against the bright sky
Promising thrills
With every sigh.
I climbed, scrambled upwards
To grasp what they pledged
In heedless delight
My keenness knife-edged.
The summit had beckoned
Becoming my mission
My reason for living
My only ambition.
And as my heart pounded,
As upwards I raced,
It presaged my future,
The world that I faced.
To view from the summit
The expanse of my world
Was a glimpse of hereafter
Forever unfurled.
Roland's Ragbag 