Up On The Ridgeway
So much breathing space as
strong winds pierce miles of
untamed vacant high ground,
relentlessly absorbing each
battering constructed by nature.
Now we have time on our hands,
laughing through blustery; biting
cold, jostled as we struggle like
windswept ships at sea,
driven along Ridgeway with
purpose: withstanding harshness,
surviving volatile brass monkey
temperatures and lurid sun.
Passionate madness across each
rise and fall, mounds established
foundations of distant past; once
crucial for survival of human kind,
yet now for us consumed with no
shelter, an ethos needing respect
for its perpetual willingness to
free the troubled soul.