WHIPPING CLOUD



Whilst my mind is on this afternoon's election meeting my eye is drawn to the mountain I have spent so many years helping to protect. This view is the symbol of our village, so many of us love and respect the beauty of our surroundings, I feel honoured to have played a small part in its story. 
Here is a short poem, written as the wind howls up the valley and the cloud tops the mountain. 



WHIPPING CLOUD

Wind whipping, clothes
dancing a fandango,
fighting pegs to fly free
over the roof tops,
whistling through chimney pots,
whoosh singing round the valley
as clouds puff and pour
over the ‘Carrescal’ like
bubbling froth steaming
from a witch’s brew.




© 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved. 





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