I want to say what love means to me
but I have never been able
to adequately describe it
today though as I walked the farmland
down off the hills towards Ingleton
by the Waterfalls Walk
a late winter sun warming the path
hedge shoulder high
brown winter stained
with twisted dead strands
and the meadow beyond
stretched green like spring
down the hillside
towards the old quarry
where shadows of the chasing clouds
move like ghosts across the land
so much of it asleep
but here in the sun I can see
cow parsley starting to grow
green shoots breaking through
the frost hard ground
in the shadow of the hedge
a woodpecker flies across the meadow
the air stirs the grass
a huge wave that moves slowly
down the hillside
like the wind across a prairie
I want to say what love means to me
but I have never been able
to adequately describe it
but here on some rocks
by a coppice
on the lower slopes of Ingleborough
as I sit and pour a tea
from the flask you made for me
all I can think of
is getting home to you
By Jim Bennett
This was a fantastic entry and I had to give it an honourable mention rather than just place it on the shortlist. On any other day it may have won a prize but personally I enjoyed the winning entries just a hair more than this entry.
Jack Murrayfield