Poetry by Jeff Green

1411–On_Scafell_Pike.html

On Scafell Pike

by cricketjeff on September 17, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

On Scafell Pike at dead of night beneath her silver sheen
  I lay my head on moss to see her face
A sight so fair it can’t compare with others I have seen
  And I was there in such a perfect place

A solid block of cold hard rock that stands above the lakes
  Yet cannot hold a candle to the skies
The soft starlight that filled the night and wiped out man’s mistakes
  That beauty spilled as Nature’s best surprise

A part round shape that made me gape in wonderment so deep
  The goddess played the major role that night
I can’t forget no sighed regret a night that saw no sleep
  The mountainside was bathed in eerie light

The fells by day still hold my sway their beauty is serene
  They never will compare with that moonshine
At dead of night on Scafell Pike beneath her silver sheen
  I lost my heart and claimed the Moon as mine