Easedale Tarn
In nature's amphitheatre,
The tarn of Easedale lies.
Majestic in its tranquil glory,
Crags and fells rising from the water's edge,
Reaching high in rocky beauty,
Crags; Tarn and Greathead, and Stapestone Edge.
Water; clear and calm, lapping at the shore,
With its one-rock island,
Lying solitary in the lakes midst.
Little fish swimming in ever moving shoals,
Uncaring of human presence.
A mallard swims up and slowly preens himself,
In this, his home
Home also to the Herdwick sheep,
Whose infrequent bleating breaks the serene silence.
In this place; I could spend all eternity.
|
