Today's poet

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

hello peeps not been on much recently, started a new job

the last poem if you can call it that didn't appear how i intended it too. I wanted to give the impression of layers with sentence construction, anyway Frecks near enough interpretation memories blurr and wesometimes only remember the crucial or skeletal facts some of it is lost and some remains as a mulch. some good stuff from yourself and HES RECENTLY.

Doodles

In the corners of the page
and spaces
saved for premonitions
are treble clefs because
I like the continuity
of the shape.
In the upper margins
are ammonites
some flat and
some three dimensional
like a pallette of ideas

---

Hi N Dubya, good to see you again and as usual, back with a really lovely poem. I am a fan of both doodling and ammonites and really like the imagery here. I had a period where I was slightly obsessed with treble clefs and spirals too.

I know its early on a Wednesday but I seem to have lost all concept of time and so I will ignore the poetry thread watershed.:)

Continuum

It is the cold truth
Time waits for no man
Instead it taunts us
With its incessant ticking.
And what of us?
We neither eat nor sleep,
Instead we rescue every second
From the mundanities of life
And turn each one to rapture.
Ignoring the ringing phone
Your hands slide up my back
As my fingers rake your hair.
That kiss was the time
We should have taken
To prepare our days
Instead we reclaimed enough
Of those precious minutes
To become lost again
In each other.

That's very good Hes, I'm impressed. I think you have a very strong grip on the concept of time.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Stevie

That's very good Hes, I'm impressed. I think you have a very strong grip on the concept of time.

---

Thanks Stevie. I've been thinking about time a lot lately. A friend of mine played me a recording of this the other evening and it has stayed with me ever since.

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

WH Auden

Interesting. Don't think I've read that before but parts of it seem familiar to me for some reason.
I can offer these lyrics from the Pink Floyd song "Time". Not exactly a poem but I think it will strike a chord in most people.


Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine
Staying home to watch the rain
And you are young and life is long
And there is time to kill today
And then one day you find
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun

And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter
Never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught
Or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone
The song is over
Thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells

Lyrics by Roger Waters

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Stevie

Did you see the golden eagle Stef F? I like your Highlander poem anyway.

I spent some time in the Gairloch area a few years ago walking and running. Saw a Brocken spectre on one of the hills.

Mist on Beinn an Eoin
Weak sun haloes my shadow
With Brocken Spectre


Then crossing between Beinn an Eoin and Baosbheinn:

Miles away with spectre thoughts,
As I descend towards the loch,
Scraping skin on granite rock,
I fail to spot the deer.

He also fails to notice me:
Out of the sunrise I appear.
We see each other, very near,
Who is more surprised!?

---

Good stuff Stevie!

I had a similar encounter with a large red kangaroo once, in Australia :)

Hmmm, I am getting al inspired again now, pitty I am at work...

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

Nice change of Avatar!;) Thanks.

---

Hes, have you got a spare print of my avatar? I may need a fox to control that rampant, mad, march hare that is bounding all over my wall:rolleyes:

The fox was strong, he was full of running,
He could run for an hour and then be cunning,
But the cry behind him made him chill,
They were nearer now and they meant to kill.
They meant to run him until his blood
Clogged on his heart as his brush with mud,
Till his back bent up and his tongue hung flagging,
And his belly and brush were filthed from dragging.


from Reynard the Fox by John Masefield

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hanneke

HHH, I was TT training that morning... hence the low cadence/high power... I'd normally go for high cadence/low pwer early in the morning, but I admit, on that particualr ride I was feeling very strong and light... When you move the bike like that, it is poetry in motion :) It resulted in a 50 second pb a couple of days later, in my race :)

Maybe I should write a poem about the TT too, just for the fun of it... It was along a dual carriageway, now there is a challenge! :)

---

I know the feeling when it just feels so easy and the hills just don't seem as big. Glorious. It just doesn't happen often enough. I think I actually like riding hills most of all. I'll think about some cycling poetry.

Congrats on the new job N-Dubya. I hope it is going well. Are you still planning on coming to the AW. I see you've entered.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

hello peeps not been on much recently, started a new job

the last poem if you can call it that didn't appear how i intended it too. I wanted to give the impression of layers with sentence construction, anyway Frecks near enough interpretation memories blurr and wesometimes only remember the crucial or skeletal facts some of it is lost and some remains as a mulch. some good stuff from yourself and HES RECENTLY.

Doodles

In the corners of the page
and spaces
saved for premonitions
are treble clefs because
I like the continuity
of the shape.
In the upper margins
are ammonites
some flat and
some three dimensional
like a pallette of ideas

---

I finally made time to have a recce of the AW this week and it was nice to familiarise myself with the route again. It was all in cloud so it was good to give it a go in those conditions and get all my mistakes out of the way. If anyone hasn't had chance to do the same they shouldn't worry though. It is straight forward enough really. I'd forgotten how long the run out is to the bottom of the first climb (don't set off too quick). I'd not remembered how Robinson flattens out at the top. I bottled it at the wrong cairn and turned off left too quick, realised my mistake, then came back to find it. Don't make the same mistake, the top is quite obvious. If you aren't sure that you are there then you aren't. Dale Head has two false summits before the actual one so be prepared for that. For the big debate for left or right of the tarn, I go right. There is grass all the way down. If it is getting craggy then head further right again. Keep your head up going over High Spy and Maiden Moor to see people ahead. There are some nice lines to be found to the right of the main path. Coming off Cat Bells keep to the right off the path and there is grass all the way down.

Don't worry if none of the above makes sense, just wing it. I hope it will be useful for someone though.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

I finally made time to have a recce of the AW this week and it was nice to familiarise myself with the route again. It was all in cloud so it was good to give it a go in those conditions and get all my mistakes out of the way. If anyone hasn't had chance to do the same they shouldn't worry though. It is straight forward enough really. I'd forgotten how long the run out is to the bottom of the first climb (don't set off too quick). I'd not remembered how Robinson flattens out at the top. I bottled it at the wrong cairn and turned off left too quick, realised my mistake, then came back to find it. Don't make the same mistake, the top is quite obvious. If you aren't sure that you are there then you aren't. Dale Head has two false summits before the actual one so be prepared for that. For the big debate for left or right of the tarn, I go right. There is grass all the way down. If it is getting craggy then head further right again. Keep your head up going over High Spy and Maiden Moor to see people ahead. There are some nice lines to be found to the right of the main path. Coming off Cat Bells keep to the right off the path and there is grass all the way down.

Don't worry if none of the above makes sense, just wing it. I hope it will be useful for someone though.

---

Harry you are so generous and thoughtful to put this up thank you....tho i think i may be one of the "wing it" folk, but i bet others will find this really helpful :) not long now....

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

hello peeps not been on much recently, started a new job

the last poem if you can call it that didn't appear how i intended it too. I wanted to give the impression of layers with sentence construction, anyway Frecks near enough interpretation memories blurr and wesometimes only remember the crucial or skeletal facts some of it is lost and some remains as a mulch. some good stuff from yourself and HES RECENTLY.

Doodles

In the corners of the page
and spaces
saved for premonitions
are treble clefs because
I like the continuity
of the shape.
In the upper margins
are ammonites
some flat and
some three dimensional
like a pallette of ideas

---

Nice one............and good to have you back ;)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Oooooo I like a challenge! :D


Definitions

Hoo man Mossy,
Wor frecks is belta,
Aye she’s right clivva,
divin’t dis the freckle,
she might get monged
and she is not minted,
but she knaas her Geordie slang,
and “lush” is geet lovely or nice,
but hey ney botha mossy,
I’ll no take offence,
a pint of snecklifter or two,
after the AW,
and all the radgieness will disappear,
all thoughts of you being a Heed the Baal,
gone forever!




voila.........

If Oven Gloves is reading this perhaps you would like to correct me if I have the wrong definition!/have anything to add? your first poem perhaps.....actually you probs running at the club which is where I should be, no wonder i am always right at the back!

http://bannedfromthebeagle.blogspot....die-slang.html

oh and this is really really important! apparently key geordie words like "hinny" are dying out, this CANNOT happen, so i beg you start using the word "hinny" today and tomorrow and everyday!

http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/north...2703-14019611/

---

aye Freckle, yee're reet on this one hinny.

Sorry mossdogs, but ya reng wor kid. Geet lush has been a Geordie term since before Adams pips had dropped. Got nowt to dee with wurzel lingo :p:D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

I know its early on a Wednesday but I seem to have lost all concept of time and so I will ignore the poetry thread watershed.:)

Continuum

It is the cold truth
Time waits for no man
Instead it taunts us
With its incessant ticking.
And what of us?
We neither eat nor sleep,
Instead we rescue every second
From the mundanities of life
And turn each one to rapture.
Ignoring the ringing phone
Your hands slide up my back
As my fingers rake your hair.
That kiss was the time
We should have taken
To prepare our days
Instead we reclaimed enough
Of those precious minutes
To become lost again
In each other.

---

It feels like there has been loads of creativity on this thread this week, so much good stuff I can barely keep up. Great to see stevie and hanneke back with lush poems and stef i liked your recent highlander one too. Hes this is really gorgeous, it was nice to read it quickly this morning when i was at work although i was too busy to comment at the time ....:)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Oven Gloves

aye Freckle, yee're reet on this one hinny.

Sorry mossdogs, but ya reng wor kid. Geet lush has been a Geordie term since before Adams pips had dropped. Got nowt to dee with wurzel lingo :p:D

---

Aw at last thank you Oven Gloves...i think you are doing the anni are you not? hope to bump into you there for some proper geordie natter like :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Harry you are so generous and thoughtful to put this up thank you....tho i think i may be one of the "wing it" folk, but i bet others will find this really helpful :) not long now....

---

The best rule is knowing who to follow. Look out for Borrowdale in purple or Ambleside in green with a blue stripe, and Keswick in yellow and green.

Being slightly more technical, bearings off the summits are useful.

Off Robinson - 150 (looking for a trod way left of the fence on your right)
Off Hindscarth - 190 then 120 (obvious track though)
Off Dale Head - 100
Off High Spy - 15 for 2k then 50 (obvious tracks)

I'm really looking forward to it too.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

The best rule is knowing who to follow. Look out for Borrowdale in purple or Ambleside in green with a blue stripe, and Keswick in yellow and green.

Being slightly more technical, bearings off the summits are useful.

Off Robinson - 150 (looking for a trod way left of the fence on your right)
Off Hindscarth - 190 then 120 (obvious track though)
Off Dale Head - 100
Off High Spy - 15 for 2k then 50 (obvious tracks)

I'm really looking forward to it too.

---

Oooooooo I am impressed....can i contribute to the tips in one small way?......

LISTEN EVERYONE
don't follow the little geordie lass
who is writing poetry!!!!!

thanks again HHH :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Oooooooo I am impressed....can i contribute to the tips in one small way?......

LISTEN EVERYONE
don't follow the little geordie lass
who is writing poetry!!!!!

thanks again HHH :)

---

ha ha - now that is a challenge. We want to hear a haiku from you all as you cross the finish line. :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Aw at last thank you Oven Gloves...i think you are doing the anni are you not? hope to bump into you there for some proper geordie natter like :D

---

I've entered the TWA (should that not have another T in it?) so you will no doubt hear fine anglo saxon never mind Geordie words leaving my lips :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Oven Gloves

I've entered the TWA (should that not have another T in it?) so you will no doubt hear fine anglo saxon never mind Geordie words leaving my lips :D

---

Oooo good luck with that one! might see you at the bar then!:D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

ha ha - now that is a challenge. We want to hear a haiku from you all as you cross the finish line. :D

---

Yes, there will be plenty of angst i am sure, the poets inspiration!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Yes, there will be plenty of angst i am sure, the poets inspiration!

---

I'm not immune to a bit of angst either, both in races and life in general. :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

I'm not immune to a bit of angst either, both in races and life in general. :)

---

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXHPk...eature=related

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Pablo Neruda

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Oooo good luck with that one! might see you at the bar then!:D

---

Nice pint of Cocker Hoop for me then please :D

Did I ever mention I'd finally seen Il Postino. Absolutely delightful.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXHPk...eature=related

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Pablo Neruda

---

Sonnet - LXIX


Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,

without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.

In short, without your presence: without your coming
suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

Pablo Neruda

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Stevie

Did you see the golden eagle Stef F? I like your Highlander poem anyway.

I spent some time in the Gairloch area a few years ago walking and running. Saw a Brocken spectre on one of the hills.

Mist on Beinn an Eoin
Weak sun haloes my shadow
With Brocken Spectre


Then crossing between Beinn an Eoin and Baosbheinn:

Miles away with spectre thoughts,
As I descend towards the loch,
Scraping skin on granite rock,
I fail to spot the deer.

He also fails to notice me:
Out of the sunrise I appear.
We see each other, very near,
Who is more surprised!?

---

Sadly I didn't see any eagles. I didn't see the deer either :( I did see a pair of black backed seagulls though :cool:

Thanks Stevie, some lovely lines about a very special place.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

The best rule is knowing who to follow. Look out for Borrowdale in purple or Ambleside in green with a blue stripe, and Keswick in yellow and green.

Being slightly more technical, bearings off the summits are useful.

Off Robinson - 150 (looking for a trod way left of the fence on your right)
Off Hindscarth - 190 then 120 (obvious track though)
Off Dale Head - 100
Off High Spy - 15 for 2k then 50 (obvious tracks)

I'm really looking forward to it too.

---

A word of caution - the purple vests have a joker in the pack. One very p***ed off NFR runner followed my wrong-headed line off Glaramara last year based on the same principles, and a whole legion went a-wandering on the wrong side of Green Gable at the Borrowdale last year on the same premise.
So...I suggest follow the purple by all means, except for the one that appears to be counting syllables on his fingers in preparation for an award winning finishing line haiku...or better still, learn how to use a compass, and write HHH's bearings down.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Old Whippet

A word of caution - the purple vests have a joker in the pack. One very p***ed off NFR runner followed my wrong-headed line off Glaramara last year based on the same principles, and a whole legion went a-wandering on the wrong side of Green Gable at the Borrowdale last year on the same premise.
So...I suggest follow the purple by all means, except for the one that appears to be counting syllables on his fingers in preparation for an award winning finishing line haiku...or better still, learn how to use a compass, and write HHH's bearings down.

---

Ooooooo you are funny :D

Evening all....

My little girl (age 6) lost one of her front teeth tonight and for some reason I have a sense that this is a rite of passage....I can still remember her being born in a haze of anxiety, fatigue and wonderment and me not being able to sleep for the first 24 hours, checking her constantly to see if she was breathing....I have read slyvia plaths poem many a time and not really enjoyed it but tonight i seemed to read it with different eyes.... I think there is a real gravity and authenticity to what she says here....

Morning Song
Slyvia Plath

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival.New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and flora
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's.The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Evening all....

My little girl (age 6) lost one of her front teeth tonight and for some reason I have a sense that this is a rite of passage....I can still remember her being born in a haze of anxiety, fatigue and wonderment and me not being able to sleep for the first 24 hours, checking her constantly to see if she was breathing....I have read slyvia plaths poem many a time and not really enjoyed it but tonight i seemed to read it with different eyes.... I think there is a real gravity and authenticity to what she says here....

Morning Song
Slyvia Plath

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival.New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and flora
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's.The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

---

That's beautiful.

Wonderful.

Just this line

Quote:

---

Love set you going like a fat gold watch

---

Is enough for me. Everything about it. Not just a watch that will run and run given enough love, but a gold one, and a healthy fat one at that.

(I deleted the full stop in the quote, it was contaminating the feeling. The capital L stays.)

Lovely choice Mossy! :cool:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Sonnet - LXIX


Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,

without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.

In short, without your presence: without your coming
suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

Pablo Neruda

---

favourite Haystacks
home to Innominate Tarn
and Wainwright's ashes

:)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

favourite Haystacks
home to Innominate Tarn
and Wainwright's ashes

:)

---

lovely DT :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

favourite Haystacks
home to Innominate Tarn
and Wainwright's ashes

:)

---

High quality haiku again from China DT. You only just flew out of the country in time before Iceland got their own back on us for siezing their bank's assets last year by setting off that volcano of theirs!

I loved the comments in the papers from people thinking that it was a complete over-reaction. Do you think they are the same people that would have criticised people for not taking enough action had a plane come down? Or is that just cynical little me? :)

Have a safe trip.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Old Whippet

A word of caution - the purple vests have a joker in the pack. One very p***ed off NFR runner followed my wrong-headed line off Glaramara last year based on the same principles, and a whole legion went a-wandering on the wrong side of Green Gable at the Borrowdale last year on the same premise.
So...I suggest follow the purple by all means, except for the one that appears to be counting syllables on his fingers in preparation for an award winning finishing line haiku...or better still, learn how to use a compass, and write HHH's bearings down.

---

Very funny OW. I had a rather irritated man follow me once as I got a bit confused as to where the trail was and so ran directly as the crow flies through bogs, gorse and falling down holes. I think he learnt his lesson.

Thanks to HHH for his kind advice too. Very thoughtful. My compass is at the ready...

the skylark ascends
running with sun on my face
my heart is singing

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

the skylark ascends
running with sun on my face
my heart is singing

---

Fantastic Hes :cool: