In the Hills

The hills stand still, the valley green, In peaceful shade and glow, serene, A sentinel at dusk that binds, Gaping holes in dreams it finds.

As shadows stretch and yawns unfold, The night’s embrace, a tale retold, The stars ignite the role above, Each twinkle a brush, a feathered love.

For in these heights the thoughts arise, On every peak, my spirit flies, Among the blossoms that grace the loam, I find my refuge, my tidy home.

• Dorothy Wordsworth