To the moor
Whenever I am troubled I ‘m going to the moor.
Its rough and windy moodiness can touch me to the core.
Some people find their comfort in going by the sea,
but sandy soil and soothing water are just not right for me.
I need the scenery to stir up grief and ache and sob and whine,
for only then it will calm down, that restless soul of mine.