Crown of the Lakes

Upon Scafell, where clouds embrace the sky,

A solemn peak stands tall in ancient grace,

Its rocky slopes in mist and shadow lie,

A timeless watch upon this sacred place.

The winds that howl across its rugged height

Carry the whispers of forgotten days,

As sunlight fades to gentle evening light,

And paints the stone with soft, ethereal rays.

To climb its path, a journey steep and long,

Through crag and cranny, nature’s hand has made,

Each step a test, yet every heart grows strong,

As mountaineers in silent awe have prayed.

Oh, Scafell Pike, where earth and sky are one,

You stand eternal 'neath the setting sun.