Gee thanks Mike, Have just come back from an evening in Whalley which is in
the shadow of Pendle Hill. This is witch country around these parts and do
you know I didn't see a single witch tonight but the magic is still about.
bw sally J
>From: Mike Horwood <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: new sub Pointed hats
>Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 13:09:29 +0200
>
> >Hello Sally,
> This is a great read with many memorable phrases, I love the
>mist `grovelling´ and `sauntering like a crowd of ghosts´ and `the age-old
>mystery seeping underfoot´.
>
>
>
>Best wishes, Mike
>
>
> >
> > Pointed hats
> >
> > There are too many pointed hats
> > too many black hats reaching for the stars.
> > The almost full moon is asleep on a cloud
> > and lights shine where a twig broom
> > made holes in the umbrella night.
> > A grovelling mist sweeps over the moors
> > saunters like a crowd of ghosts
> > across brown leafed roads and twisted lanes.
> > Pendle is awake, her spirit sisters roam
> > unleashed across shadowed grasses.
> > Moonlit streams wake sleeping fish and
> > old owls stare wide eye, from hollowed trees.
> > Black cats smile from slated roofs
> > creep from secret places.
> > There is an age old mystery seeping underfoot
> > it clings with dewy frost on soggy soles
> > Yawning from the valley, a mystery of magic
> > flashes like lightening, tingles rusted gates
> > strikes the tremble of this hallowed eve.
> >
> >
> > Sally James
> >
> > _________________________________________________________________
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