The Owl Service
The road is long and made of sand and grit
The tees loom up against the sky
The turnip moon makes a song of the lake
And all I know is heartache
The night is a tender velvet cloak
Lines in mist edged in starlight
The waters rise and threaten to drown the shore
A boat to cross the water what I long for
animals darkness and trees
Between me and where I live
