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The Moor/ The Secret Garden

PC : Myself

Not inclined to sleep,
She sat and looked out of window.
Not exactly frightened but,
No knowing what might happen,
In a house standing on the edge of a Moor.
Mary waited in the darkness of her corner,
Keeping her eyes on the window.
She could see nothing but,
Dense darkness on either side.
Her face against the window,
Road seemed to cut through
Bushes and low growing things.
The expanse of dark,
Spread out before and around.
It is not the sea,
It isn’t fields nor mountains,
Just miles and miles,
And miles of wild land.
Nothing grows but heather,
And gorse and broom.
Nothing lives but,
Wild ponies and sheep.
The wind made strange sounds
The road went up and down.
Mary felt the wide bleak moor,
Was a wide black ocean.

The SECRET GARDEN – The magical story of a little girl named Mary, written by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

The poem above is a combination of excerpts from the sentences the author uses to describe Mary’s journey through the moor. The chapter describes a little girl’s anxiety in hearing the word Moor for the first time in life and how she tries to see the Moor in darkness through the window of her horse carriage.

For more info on the Book Bits please visit

(I do not take credit for the words used in the poem. The words are original works of the author of the book.)

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