Another poem about Nenthead

Nenthead, a village of old stone walls,

Where industry once flourished, but now falls.

A place of quiet beauty and serene,

Where nature reigns supreme.

The hills rise tall, and the rivers flow,

Through valleys green, and heather aglow.

A haven for those who seek to escape,

The hustle and bustle of cityscape.

The skies are dark, and the stars shine bright,

Guiding us through the long, moonlit night.

And as we gaze upon the constellations,

We feel a sense of awe and inspiration.

Nenthead, a place of history and pride,

Where the past and present intertwine.

A village of strong and resilient folk,

Who've endured through every trial and joke.

So come and visit Nenthead, if you will,

And discover for yourself its hidden thrill.

For in this quaint and peaceful village,

You'll find a treasure trove of beauty and knowledge.

Nenthead, a land of ancient mines,

Where the earth, and the sky, are intertwined,

A place where the stories of the past

Are still alive and will forever last.