Langstrothdale View Poem by C Richard Miles

A soft spring day and, from the bus at Cray
Upon my left, I look up Langstrothdale
Past primroses, all lemon pale, to where,
Through silver birch in limestone pavement’s grikes,
The church at Hubberholme sits lone and squat
In its secluded spot, among the trees that still
Are not yet green below the hill, but I
Can picture summer through the showers, as rays
Of sunlight flash like flowers on meadow grass
And, as I pass, the lambs begin to leap
As Langstrothdale awakes from winter’s sleep.