Untitled Part 5

16 1 0
                                    


  High on the moors above Pendle

The singing- Ringing-Tree

A perfect place to feel alone

With a rhapsodic moorland torment

Drowning out my own...

The wind knows no mercy,

Yet she will be my lover tonight...

The wind holds no comfort, but

Within her cold embrace I'll lie.  

Tinkerbrook talesWhere stories live. Discover now