Below my feet the mountain sprawls
I hear the village bell chime as the sun it falls
The wind blusters and blows without whistle
I feel as if time has come to a standstill
Biding with patience that’s fully enjoyed
I stand alone as a herder employed
Howling and hailing, screeching and wailing;
She goes into the night.
Rolling and ranting, sweating and panting;
She wakes with a fright.
Weeping and waiting, anticipating;
She rises with the light.
Caring and caressing, kissing and blessing;
She shines out bright.
Pierce Beckett 