Derwentwater’s oaken shoregives onto waters, crystal pureor so they were, now marred with foama plague upon my mountain home Bracken-clad hillsides’ colours changewith seasons as they rearrangeand sphagnum moss and cotton-grasswet walker’s bootsteps where they pass and yew and sedge and ash trees bendin winds which blow, the boughs to rendwhile birdsong of the lark... Continue Reading →