Exmoor
Lost aboard the roll of Kodac-
Olor that was to have super-
Seded all need to remember
Somerset were: a large flock
Of winter-bedcover-thick-
Pelted sheep up on the moor;
A stile, a church spire,
And an excess, at Porlock,
Of tenderly barbarous antique
Thatch in tandem with flower-
Beds, relentlessly pictur-
Esque, along every sidewalk;
A millwheel; and a millbrook
Running down brown as beer.
Exempt from the disaster.
However, as either too quick
Or too subtle to put on rec-
Ord, were these: the flutter
Of, beside the brown water,
With a butterfly-like flick
Of fan-wings, a bright black-
And-yellow wagtail; at Dulver-
Ton on the moor, the flavor
Of the hot toasted teacake
Drowning in melted butter
We had along with a bus-tour-
Load of old people; the driver
‘s way of smothering every r
In the wool of a West Countr-
Y diphthong, and as a Somer-
Set man, the warmth he had for
The high, wild, heather-
Dank wold he drove us over.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)