Tuesday, April 14

Piel Island...A Poem for Thursday



 

 I'd been wanting to go to this island for a few years. The last time we made the trip the weather was windy and the Ferryman refused to take us across...who can blame him..the currents alone are treacherous between the mainland...Barrow-in-Furness and the island. This is no ordinary place..it has it's own King and Throne and also  Piel Castle. The Abbott of Furness Abbey owned the rights to all the takings from the sea going craft coming from both Ireland and The Isle-of-Man. It's not touristy and apart from some terraced houses the pub is the only occupied building.
We spent a day just wandering the edge and listening to the skylarks which are everywhere on this little piece of land.



 















Piel Island
 
The skylarks are rising
Drawing me far away
From the nest low in the
Tufts of maran grass that
Grow out of the mussel beach.
I stop to watch their ascent
And listen as the lark
Song joins the soft keening
Of an April wind 'til
Wind takes over and
The bird is lost to my eyes.