This morning I woke up early again and wrote this observational poem. I literally stood on the landing outside my bedroom, looked, then wrote.

Up here amongst the Dales
There is a magic everywhere.
These rolling hills, all draped in mist
Seduce my senses with their rustic charm.
From high above: my sister’s loft,
Oh what a view!
The valley of The Aire: just set
Before me like an open map.
These towns and villages, all pasted on those undulating hills.
Above, the ever changing clouds right now are drifting, aimlessly along.
A tree-dot landscape smothered by those clinging mists.
The clouds roll on, imperiously
Lording over everything:
A land all shrouded in mystery.
Paul Butters
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