Fell Pony

At one with your surroundings,

Surefooted around crags and bogs, 

Hardy in all weathers,

long dark mane, forelock and tail protecting.

You know the sheltered places, 

 ghylls, whin bushes, below the wind, out of the storm.

Grazing amongst the bronzed bracken patchwork

Your bright bay coat shines in the autumn light.

I shout - Head up, ears alert, 

You hear the distant call.

Will you come?

Ralfland …. you bear the name of the ground you tread, 

Turning tail you follow the herd

Galloping up and over Tailbert Rigg,

Today you choose to remain there. 

© Janet Wood June 2023

—Wordsworth Writers Group: inspired by our 'Our Common Heritage' exhibition during its display at The Old Courthouse in Shap.