Ancient Moorland

It's nigh on thrice years time ten
Since I walked these moorland heights
Under bright sun of Summer
Tinted by Winter's frights
Walked I had often there
In child's innocence clothed
Wedded not to adult cares
Nor to worry yet even betrothed
Yet the child in me recoiled
As memory was torn apart
By vistas once well known
And making up my heart
For look I left or look I right
All change before me flies
And reason wass it seemed
To cut old memories' ties
So look again I did just then
And see with new adult eyes
A moorland filled to overflow
With grass and many a wild flower
Where insect and butterfly dwell
And birds the stems do scour
And stepping forth with opened mind
I took in all the scene I might
And marvelled with freshened eyes
At that un-remembered ancient sight

Terry Rhiannyr
August, 2012