A view of the river Plym in the National Trust owned Dewerstone Woods, on the Southern edge of the moor.
These words echoed down through your hawthorned track,
The day I dared not leave you,
The pull of belonging anchored me,
But love and duty called me on.
All week I heard the rustle of your trees,
The granite streams whispered their sweet oaths.
The fern streaked beauty of your memory held me:
Lifted me from my heart of pain filled streets.
Poem By Rachel Burch
A poetry card is avaliable to buy of this image.
Photographer: Rachel Burch