Ribble Valley, poetry by James Walmsley at Spillwords.com
Annie Spratt

Ribble Valley

Ribble Valley

written by: James Walmsley


On finer days I’ve walked this country
pondered nature’s beauty intently.
Trodden paths through wood and field
and revelled at the delights revealed.

Sweet honeysuckle a magnificent tree
perhaps a wasp a humble bubble bee.
A harvest mouse or a plain old shrew
maybe the remains of what once grew.

Silver streams of beauty flow
through vale and woodland grove.
Nature’s canvas a wonderous sea
a gift so grand bestowed upon thee.

Aromatic scents of ripened fruits
flocks of birds like trained recruits.
Swoop from above and take their fill
then rise and fly as is their will.

As evening beckons in dappled light
and sunlight slips into starry night.
Tawny Owls hoot and Foxes screech
please tread ye gently I beseech.



The poem is about our countryside and its slow decline and how we must tread gently to preserve it.

Latest posts by James Walmsley (see all)