Poem -
Porlock
not too far from me regardless of whether by road or as the crow flies ..
Its where they drag boats
over hills,
across fields and catch
oysters ..
Itās where when itās still,
no sound
can be heard except for
the larks
in the sky, the buzzing of
bumble bees
and more often than not,
either fair or
foul wind in old cotton sails ..
Ā
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Comments
I had a look and it seems like the most lovely little place. A wonderful story and poem too. The Best J.
Thanks for taking part Jac .. and I do mean that my friend .. NevilleĀ
I think this speaks of more that a beautiful place... it describes moments of wild and beautiful peaceĀ ... of appreciating and existing truly in the momentĀ MarvellousX
Just up the road from yours truly & one of my favourite local places Marion .. Thank you so much for visiting it with me .. x