A/n: To give a bit of background, I live in the hills of Wales. These are intended to be some snapshots of the country.

…I could not decide whether to arrange it all together or in sections, so please tell me what you think will work best.

The Spirit Lives On

Soft grass grows upon the memories of old,

Hazing the legacies of lives lived, worked, died.

The crumbling mill is silent, the workings stand mute.

Yet the castle stands proud in its twilight,

Whispering age-old tales to the velvet night,

Of sorrows, loves, births, deaths.

Sheep graze upon the ancient shrines.

A solitary kite circles lazily through the smooth air.

A swift drop, the hurry through daisy-studded fields

Ends abruptly.

In the cities, the wheel of industry turns,

Grinds its arduous existence away.

But far from the hustle, the races, the rush,

Nature smiles as the sky deepens to soft purple.

Dancing over the playful ripples.

Small boats dance before the racing wind,

Sails straining to glide as swans over shimmering pools.

A lone walker stands and gazes.

He has never noticed the beauty,

Yet it is always there.

The patchwork mountains sigh their eternal wisdom,

And the spirit lives on.