(Woops - sorry)

Some thirteen years from my first visit
    (Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
This time, by train and a downhill walk)
    I arrived at Windermere:

On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
    A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
    And the more sporty ways to ride.

Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
    Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
    And a bridge - starting the way back.

Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
    Shaded what was a sunny day,
And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
    Calming the soul a further way.

Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
    Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
The surrounds of England's largest lake,
    And movie train-window viewings.