I 'wrote' this in my mind a week ago. Here in the north of England is the county of Yorkshire, a place of commerce and industry but also outstanding beauty. About 25 miles from my home is the Dales national park.
It is a place of moorland,crags, rolling hills, lush valleys,caves and rivers. Dotted amongst this heaven are tiny villages surrounded by endless walls of dry-stone which since medieval times have divided the land into fields.
I spent the day in the village of Burnsall a week ago. I was the most relaxed and least disabled (Parkinson's) I'v been for 3 years and after a few hours of just sitting and stilling my mind I became lost in a state of reverie.
I hope you enjoy.

Nigel

BURNSALL


It takes your breath, those sudden camera shutter glimpses of the valley floor,
as down you go looking right, through branch framed windows under the tor,
all bathed in the northern light.

This is God's land, here all the city's neon and concrete blight has no place,
instead there is only peace,a verdant serene contrast to man's urban disgrace,
a haven when labours cease.

There is much wonder here, stately cloud shadows adjusting shades of green,
houses of Dale married stone, river secrets hidden by a dancing gloss sheen,
the towering heather tinged throne.

Is there some potion here, lying in the meadows or sown upon the breeze,
an Elixir from nature born, that softly renders body and mind at ease,
as the burdens we carry are shorn.