When The Black Dog Comes Stalking Poem by Terry Dawson

When the Black Dog comes stalking
And spirits are down-pressed,
To go barefoot walking
In the wilds what's best.

When joy's at an end
And spirits are low,
Then take you a friend
And wild-walking go.

Amid the great trees
A wild orchestra plays
Where a hurt mind it frees
Of all its dismays.

And there by calm feelings
Your life will be blessed
As by natures sure healings
Your spirit's caressed.

Know this my brave-heart
When you're in despairs:
In far mountain rampart,
There's a farmer who cares.