Wessex

I'm exploring why I love the West Country. 
This is just a start:

Wessex

Past the city of The Saints,
And the soaring Cathedral,
Past the Test, we are West
And a kingdom apart
From the lands that were taken
By those in the south
And the east and the middle
And those who withdrew 
From the sea.

There is little to tell
From sight or smell
This chalk and sand
From that we've left behind.
The sky still sports 
The spiralling buzzard,
And pheasant step startled
From thorn and beech
And ash.

Nothing marks
The the subtle shift
But the law in the air
Is not the same:
Something to do with 
Distance travelled
Trade routes,
Pilgrimage
To light;

Some anarchy 
That crowns us all
As giant oak
And hazel copse
Stand equally 
Unthreatened.
This maybe in
Our ancestry
Or maybe
It's just me.