An Opening to the Lake District

The dew is fresh upon the plains, and

The snow tempestuously piles,

Upon the mountains, the Sun awakes, angelically,

To pane the beautiful but deceptive terrain,

Enticing the revellers that will climb,

Like poetic soldiers to write their tomes,

Of their forever frequent roams,

Either it be on the grassy hills by Windermere,

Or the rocks of Jack's Rake, which I fear.

The Sun now at its peak, as

The snow continues to pile,

Upon the mountains, the heart throbs,

At this beautiful but still deceptive terrain, that,

Constantly lures the walkers that will trek,

Like poetic soldiers to share their story,

Of the majestic Esk Pike in all its glory,

Or serenity in England named Scarfell Pike,

Where your feet are the transport, so forget the bike.

The winds now at their most turbulent, as

The snow continues to pile,

Upon the mountains, the lens captures, continuously,

This wondrous, but still harshly deceptive terrain, that,

Will once more indulge the film makers that will document,

The unmatchable pleasantness of Helvellyn's guise,

To give your senses a joyous surprise,

Weary eyes the walkers have, so a tent at Blencathra,

Our batteries need recharging, for the quest is not over by far.

The Sun from Helios now begins to set, but,

The snow continues to pile,

Upon the mountains, the memories start to settle,

Thoughts of this unwavering terrain, that,

Will drain the fittest of men that need their sleep,

So, dreamy stanzas of poetic soldiers come alive,

After much needed sip of something that warms the inside,

To remember Skiddaw, Cat Bells and Great End,

With their stories shared they will become our friends.

The Moon now beaming, as the wind howls, however,

The snow continues to pile,

Upon the mountains, where our temporary home lays,

On this interestingly comfy, yet brutish terrain,

That cushions the heart and the heads of travellers, in sleep,

We now see the poetic dreaming of our protagonists,

As the mountainous lands play somewhat antagonists,

However, when our star wakes again as we do,

We shall walk the mountains again through and through.