Rannoch Moor

Wild highland hills
Clothed in purple hue.
Bitter winds scattering clouds,
Bracken brown and sodden,
Rainbow in a boisterous sky.
All the scents and sounds
Of an ancient land
Clothed in history.

The mystery of darkening glens
The mist rising over the moor.
Ghosts of legend whispering by,
Snow capped peaks
Forbidding in the gloming.
Stones of a ruin lying forlorn.
Desolation in a wintry landscape.
Timeless land filled with memories.

EAW

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This entry was posted in Poetry.

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