The cattle graze upon the down <br />That leads towards the sky, <br />The view of patchwork fields on which <br />The hanging mist does lie, <br />Beside the peaceful woodland grows <br />Upon the slopes that fall, <br />With leaves so green and branches strong <br />On trees that stand so tall. <br /> <br />The sea is hushed its waters calm <br />The blue horizon fills, <br />My senses with its beauty far <br />Beyond those distant hills, <br />The way is long and steeply climbs <br />The well worn path I know, <br />Past the thorn and yellow gorse <br />I see the flowers glow. <br /> <br />The air I breathe so pure and clean <br />That urges me to stay, <br />I walk until I reach the peak <br />Then look across the bay, <br />And see the cliffs of white that reach <br />Until they disappear, <br />I feel the breeze that starts to blow <br />And skies begin to clear.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mottistone-down/
