On The Moor

Upon the spring the frozen moor
Stays lifeless still but above it soars
The Kite and the crow, silohuettes on the snow
Imploring the sun to bring life below

The deer appear leaping down south
To find food for their winter-starved mouths
As heather appears and shivers with tears
That streaked down the sky like drear coloured spears

The burn runs quick down the crag
Reflecting clouds thick, froth ripples like flags
The mist hides the heather mysterious weather
Full of old stories, songs legends forever
War on the moor, the roar and the claws
But for now left alone, dreamlike, assured
And the kite sings proud to the spring

Author's Note

I thought this up very quickly one day. I love the Scottish countryside and had no real thought process when writing about it. I feel it would be simpler if you gave your thoughts and criticism rather than getting myself to try and tweak it without much improvement.