Fraser’s Hill

I love writing, but there are times when other things call to me…
So when my husband had to go to Fraser’s Hill last week for a couple of days, I couldn’t resist.
And below is why – with apologies to John Masefield.
I must go up to the hills again, to the forest green, and the sky,
And all I ask is a pair of ‘bins and a scope to see birds by,
And the crow’s cry and the wind’s song and the white mist’s snaking,
And a cuckoo on the tree branch and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go up to the hills again, for the drongo’s call in the pine
Is a wild call and a clear call that to me is so divine;
And all I ask is a sunny day with the high clouds flying,
Where the swifts fly and the jays fight, and the eagle’s crying.

I must go up to the hills again, to the vagrant birding life,
To the owl’s hole and the hornbill tree where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a birding tale from a fellow bird-lover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long list’s over.

——————–

Ok, so it doesn’t quite scan – I’m no poet! The photo was taken on the way up to Fraser’s. And yes, I wrote while there.


Comments

Fraser’s Hill — 5 Comments

  1. Looks beautiful Glenda, and well done with the Masefield bit. It almost sounds like him, almost. That is one of my favourite poems.

    Is there any logging in that area?

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