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dorset wishes

    if wishes were kisses and horses were fools
      if troubles were lessons of life and not rules
      if courses were ridden to strawberry fairs
      if wishes were granted all under the  stairs

      if promises given were granted each day
      if lovers a plenty were rolled in the hay
      if daydreams in Dorset were spoken each day
      where fairies and pixies all floated aways

      if the glory of heaven was given to man
      where preachers and poets left idly stand
      if common sense virtues were freely declared
      we would dream them all daily under the stairs

      if sad looks and glances were nowt be a phase
      if childhood was magic all kissed in the glade
      if story book angels had really gold wings
      then id gather those stanzas and gracefully sing

      if common good virtues and manners were proud
      wherein the meadows and pastures so loud
      where countryside yokels are proud to be seen
      its all part of Dorset like honey and cream  


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