The Inaugural Manning's Pit
Manning's Pit by Anne Beer
And all I ask are the tall trees, the wind upon my face
And wild sounds as the grass browns with the seasons turning
And a bright sun on the stream's face and a new day dawning.
I must go down to The Pit again, for the pull of that lonely place
Is a strong pull and a strange pull and you feel it pace by pace
And all I ask is a calm day with the Buzzards crying
Oér the warm wood, and the mossed trees and branches sighing.
I must go down to The Pit again, to the wandering way of life
To the track's way, and the path's way, ridding my soul of strife
And all I ask is a peaceful time, a gate to lean over
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream in a field full of clover.