At Blackhall Rocks... Poem by DM W

At Blackhall Rocks the skylarks soar and sing,
Over wildflower rich meadows, grasslands
And surreal beaches: such beauty to cling
To when times get dark. Across pebbled sands,
We wander without a care in the world.
Every day the weather varies; from wind
And sunshine to sea fret. There are no words
To describe the experience. The din
Of modern distractions cannot be heard
Here; only Nature's poignant murmurings.
Here among the rare plants and blissful birds,
We can forget about trivial things;
That often trouble us most unduly.
Here we can relax, and dream, endlessly.