I am also a member of The International Society of Poets. I can express the way I feel through my poetry, and my poetry comes from deep within me, from the heart. Through Moorland, farmland, it rushes to greet Hoar Oak Water at Watersmeet. Through woodland, beautiful, serene, The river, crystal clear and clean, Skips lightly over pebbled shore, Past grassy banks with leafy floor. Twisting, tumbling, on its way, Reflecting light from the sun's ray.
Huge boulders look like natural walls And cause cascading waterfalls.
And off down the road he went. He turned on to a part through fern and whin, Then by along fence he leant. Now over a stile, and into a field, And close to a hedgerow he kept. Over the hills and along the fells, 'Cross streams that were so clear, Through enchanting little dwells, And past a lonely weir. Through two stone gate posts, Down a track, Where bluebells bloom in hosts, And the rolling hills sweep back.