Pedalling Through The Peak District

We  journeyed through the Peak District today and I thought I’d relate the experience, just through pictures and verse. I know I’m hopeless at anything poetic, but sometimes I like to do it, just for a change and a challenge! Feel free dear readers, to laugh at the attempt, I won’t mind a bit!

With the lightest touch,

with the gentlest hand,

the mist caressed

every fold of land

The ancient towns of markets and mills

felt not the grip of winter chill,

but instead, the touch on skeletal forms

was gossamer, delicate, a veil elegantly worn.

Through Ashbourne and Cromford,

with charming streets to roam,

to Matlock and Crich

of cobble and stone.

Not lens nor word

captures what the eye beheld

of that beautiful landscape

of peaks and fell.

 

The travellers sought not 

to use eye alone,

nor restrict their journey

to van or roam.

At Bakewell the land

sang the siren’s call,

to experience its allure

with senses all.

On pedals and wheels

the Peak’s world could unfold,

to bring sights and sounds

to the very soul.

The journey ended

once more in the van,

across darkened moors 

under mist’s heavy hand

 

This isle that we journey

gifts memories of gold

to two grateful travellers

who continue to hold

 

those memories so dear

as theirs alone,

of special places and moments,

as they run…ride…roam.