Bidston Hill

First through the cemetery,

Where spirits roam,

Between the tomb stones,

Meander around the old cathedral,

Now m ruins, encompassed in gloom,

Go past the farmland,

With its sheep and ducks,

Over the field, where the grass sways,

On through the woods,

Tree branches raised high toward the sky

Go across the heath,

Smell the yellow gorse bush flowers,

Sweet like coconut,

May be try and eat a few,

Watch out for the leaves; they’re spikes!

Peer down the sandstone cliffs,

Jagged and banded,

Over the troll bridge go,

Past the old windmill,

Where a cauldron of bats roost,

Find the ruined sundial,

That tells time no longer,

Flanked by ancient oaks,

Tall and proud,

Filled with ancient wisdom,

See the two domed observatory,

Empty of stars,

By the witches steps,

Dark and dank,

Leading to who knows where,

Wander past the lighthouse,

Far from the sea,

Walk along the path,

As it twists around,

Keep your eyes peeled now,

This is the most sacred part,

For here you'll find,

Carvings from antiquity,

Goddess from ancient times dwell here,

As well as other beings unseen,

So be careful not to lose your way,

Over the hill,

And far away,

Where all the faeries like to play,

You might just want to stay,

Stay and play,

Forever with the Fae…