Wordsworth

(Click over sketch to enlarge)

I sit beside a master’s grave,

Beneath a yew, he grew,

And thru St. Oswald’s heavy door,

I kneel and say my prayer.

Then onward past Dove’s abode

With spirits of lovely verse,

Past skaters rink on lily pond,

Where feathered songsters greet the air.

Across to Rydal, passed the Mount,
to little Church on side of hill,
A pew which sat the poet to pray,
Near Dora's field of Daffodils 

Poem - Bryan Yorke 4th September 2015
(Sketch - 2nd March 2013)