|
dorset daysthe patriots dance beneath the wareham walls where frome and piddle run and play where samways plays his fiddle the sun it smiles on bestwalls crew like any other day whilst zunners laugh and frolic gals roll in the hay oh diddle diddle rode the hills across the purbecks downs we all met up on market day i bought a pig for half a crown where grass grows tall where swans regale ride upon the tide i spied my love that night in June though lies i cant abide the masters of the spinning wheels spun their simple yarn whilst boys and girls danced at dawn down upon the farm the crows they squawked and lambs did play upon the hillside proud the forests walks were rich in deer though natures voice was loud the cuckoo sang its funny rhyme where stobough meadows lie the cows were rich in cowslips then that sunny summers day the church of st Mary's rang its bells so rich in tone i stood upon the corfe hill road a poet all alone Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
|
|
| |||||||||||||||||||
|