Wallabrook
    I sit amid an abundance of green,

    Of grass and whortleberry banks.

    Watching the beauty of Wallabrooks streams.

    To mother nature I convey my thanks.

    Her bubbly chatter to my receptive ears

    as she communicates with trickles and splashes.

    Visually displaying her dancing lights

    of silver, sunlit, streaks and flashes.

    The dragonfly in yellow and black attire,

    with delicate flittering wings.

    Dodgingly darts, then humming she hovers,

    such colourful contrast she brings.

    The skittering boatmen to my delight,

    tiptoe on water, a miraculous sight.

    so if ever you go to Wallabrook,

    be sure to stop and take a look.

    reflections of nature you too could share.

    Her captivating companions for mere moments in time.

                   Melissa Williams

A winter scene on Dartmoor
   The bitterly cold season of winter brings changes of breathtaking beauty to the rugged moorland.  Sometimes her wind bites harsh and cruel and at others she blows her light frosty breath, penetrating every minute particle of moisture. During this season there is a sharp crispness to the air and I relish every step as the ground goes crunch beneath my feet.
   Along the frozen brooks, streams and leats we find fascinating icicles ,true monuments of mother natures work, jaggedly lining the waterbanks.
   As my warm breath hits the air, clouds of swirling misty vapour appear. The freezing wind whispers to me, snapping and stinging my face until my eyes smart and my chin goes numb.
   Yes winter has come in all her glory, a blanket of white frost settles on A bleak landscape, showered with crystallised particles glinting in the hazy winter sunlight. A landscape littered with skeletons of buildings, once inhabited by mormen and their families, now boarded up and decaying in surroundings of stark solitude, sometimes guarded and cherished by a few tall military fir trees.         
                                Melissa Williams