The Win­ter Coun­try­side

M. Dundrow

Evergreen - - Contents - M. DUNDROW

In win­ter­time Not less do I love the rolling mead­ows, Lit­tle hills and woods, the an­cient or­chards, Nestling farms and cot­tages in gar­den plots Of this fair land that west of the Ta­mar lies. Not less­ened is my love be­neath grey skies As now rain’s grey and chill­ing cur­tains sweep In silent sat­u­ra­tion on the land.

Be­neath translu­cent veils of pearl- grey mist The win­ter land­scape lies and with soft voice The win­ter spirit pleads with us to see No less a beauty in her softer hues, In grey en­shroud­ing rain clouds, Misty fields, stark sym­me­try of dark trees, In rich brown soil new ploughed and ev­ery­thing In na­ture dressed in sub­tle, sober tones. No less, for me, a beauty in th­ese Than sum­mer’s hec­tic colour cav­al­cade.


A misty morn­ing at Min­ions on Bod­min Moor, Corn­wall, with South Phoenix Mine en­gine house sil­hou­et­ted in the dis­tance.

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