Cats stuck to window sills as languid as the rolling hills and craggy like the rocky tors sheep sleeping underneath a portcullis of a sky as steel grey clouds disguised as prison bars soothe them gently with the Lakeland lullaby
I saw no Viking but I did see hikers by the score up the scree scrambling up the tor
being me, I wondered what you doing that for?
Boats across the lake too much Kendal mint cake and your jaws ache take the Lilliputian train we're toddlers toddling off again