Cumberland Fell Runners

I am but a mountain
Proud and tall, above valley floor.
I've been here for eons
Just a mountain and nothing more.

Four long seasons visit me
Each with their tale to tell.
Showering me with their virtues
Tolling over me like some bell.

I am but a mountain
Many paths and routes scar my shoulders.
Dozens of man made cairns I wear
Made up from scattered boulders.

The hardy shepherd finds his flock
He's no need for detailed maps.
Low clouds and mist can do their worst
They're no match for these wily chaps.

I am but a mountain
With great buttresses and lofty crags.
And some days many men cling to them
Like brightly coloured flags.

But sadly these coloured flags
Can occasionally lose their grasp.
And tumble down out of life
With a haunting final gasp.

And I weep for the ones they leave behind
Dark days too many for counting.
I wonder, do they blame me
Though I am just a mountain?

But the fell runner will always amaze me
Springheeled he'll scale my height.
Then on he'll go without delay
Even bagging the tops by night.

Fleet of foot, I watch him descend
Down my ageless screes.
And with a leap and bound he's gone
As swift as an August breeze.

Though many wander slowly
Pausing often as they admire the view.
The mountains are a symbol to them
Of all that is good and true.