Look up, look up, the sun is out;
an Autumn morning lightens.
The duvet’s warm a pillow soft
but birds are busy - piping.
Who cares how come a new sun burns;
sick of lectures, sick of dreams
I put two feet in humble shoes
and leave you to your sleep.
Across a moor,
giggling stream,
a lifting fell,
one step more,
listen, breathe,
time - our ticking time - will tell.
