On Carnethy Hill

By paborama

Wed, 30 Sep 2015

4 comments

And mountains these of old we climbed

Like summer's blessed memory blunt

I ran up paths by sheep who knew

The way before I wandered

Sunsets deep amongst the hills

Carnethy's sisters cross the glen

The treacle slides behind the clouds

Dripping through with fingers slow

And into heather purple, deep

We sink our heels downward

Back to lands less magic-steeped

Back to heartbreak

Permalink Submitted by scratch on Wed, 2015-09-30 14:34

Lovely writing. I felt that the closing was too abrupt - was that intentional, Paborama?

Permalink Submitted by paborama on Wed, 2015-09-30 15:02

Thank you for the wee roond cherries! It was deliberately blunt but, if you think it doesn't work, I shall keep considering it :-)

Permalink Submitted by scratch on Wed, 2015-09-30 15:19

That's the poet's prerogative, Paborama. If you're happy with it leave it alone.

Permalink Submitted by Rhiannonw on Wed, 2015-09-30 17:32

Beautiful picture of the enjoyment of the escape. Did it help for the re-grappling with the heartache left behind awhile? Rhiannon