puffed from climbing - I take the opportunity of a bench -
to sit and look across the valley to middleton
the hall proudly stands in rustic splendour
among the pasture - so rich that no sheep graze -
that is for the hills behind
there is a greeness to the stone work
almost khaki
perfectly matching the low moorland
running up blending to plain chocolate
on the blue white of the skyline
moving down the hill to the village
these tones persist
until rotating around the heart
the new build begins
chalk white walls and red tiled
in a broad anchor spreading
to right and left along the crest
this contrasts with the earthen palette
of the unleafen trees - in a not unpleasant manner -
like the scurf of a moorland stream
breaking around a stone
despite the rush and hurry
the only sign of movement
is the impact of stillness
The Blue Book
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