Poetry by Jeff Green


Wainwright country

by cricketjeff on October 25, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Have you walked alone with Wainwright over Lakeland’s grey-green hills
In the early April sunshine gazed at Wordsworth’s daffodils
Have you conquered Ingleborough where the waterfalls make play
Seen the sunset over Gable when you’ve hiked the day away

Have you followed Alfred Wainwright down a sheep track past the screes
Found the ground you thought was solid is a bog up past your knees
Drunk from springs as  fresh as sunlight that you’ve dammed with ghost-green slate
Cooled your feet in silent waters where the ancient steamers wait

Have you seen how fell-struck Wainwright made his world in pen and ink
When the sun caresses Wasdale have you stopped to stand and think
Heard the whistles of Lal Ratty echo round the fells and dales
Or gazed up through blue slashed cloud sheets where a single eagle sails

Have you curled up warm with Wainwright in a distant winter bed
Walking summer sunny mountains that live deep inside your head
Once you’ve read his hard-wrought byways in a hand so clear and free
You will always love his England where the lakes are poetry

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