The following is a transcription of a work by Saddleworth poet Ammon Wrigley
A Summer’s Night on a Moor
- I climb the rough stairs up the moor
- To its high topmost storey,
- When sunset back to heaven takes
- The day’s slow fading glory;
- No stuffy chamber draped with silk,
- No bed of down and feather,
- I share a sweeter bed, and lie
- With grouse among the heather.
- Or in some bracken sheltered clough,
- On grassy pillow dreaming,
- The moon above the southern hills,
- The north lights eastwards streaming;
- A wakeful stream beside my bed
- O’er tumbled boulders leaping,
- The one lone voice the night moors hear
- When birds and winds are sleeping.
- No loud alarums stab my ears,
- No mad street traffic brawling,
- The curlews crying, morn is here,
- The moorcocks round me calling.
- Then, Oh, for some clean breathing moor,
- The musty night room scorning,
- And sunrise fairies ope for me
- The windows of the morning.