Stephen Andersen Editor

Written by Gemini AI

The sun has climbed the ancient fell, To wake the valley from its sleep; 
Within the silent, leafy dell, The morning shadows linger deep.

The skylark mounts on trembling wing, To lose itself in boundless blue;
 No longer does the winter cling, To blades of grass and beads of dew.

The hedgerows now are tangled thick, With bryony and eglantine;

Where golden sparks of sunlight flick, And ivy tendrils softly twine.

Beside the brook that babbles low, The yellow iris proudly stands;

Where cooling waters gently flow, Through mossy rocks and pebbled sands.

I sit beneath the gnarled oak, A hermit in a world of green;

Far from the city’s heavy smoke, Content to watch the world unseen.

The honey-bee with heavy thigh, Now wanders through the clover sweet;

While summer clouds go drifting by, Above the fields of ripening wheat.

A presence breathes in every leaf, A spirit haunts the quiet air; 

That offers to the heart relief, From every burden, every care.

The cattle graze in pastures wide, Or seek the shadow of the wall;

While on the sunny mountain side, The distant shepherds faintly call.

The pulse of life, so calm and slow, Is felt within the beating breast;

Till all the things we see and know, Are part of one eternal rest.

And when the winter winds shall blow, And shroud the fells in drifted white;

This summer day shall inward glow, To fill my soul with holy light.

Finis

The Lake District • Summer Solstice