Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
From York, I booked a train seat, then arrived
At Leighton Buzzard, where my good friends came.
We had dinner with whisky; I survived.
Their tidy house, **** and span, looked the same.
In Stratford, we found Shakespeare still alive,
And Anne Hathaway’s Cottage earned its fame.
We reminisced: In the Lake District thrived.
At Wastwater, the wild we could not tame.
In Grasmere, bountiful meals were prescribed.
Wordsworth and Coleridge wrote poems to shame
Those who keep their meager talent alive.
Back to reality in Wing we came,
Renewed bonds from which our friendship derived.
That they ended, only death was to blame.
Arlice W Davenport
Written by
Arlice W Davenport  M/Kansas
(M/Kansas)   
104
   Adam Holmstrom
Please log in to view and add comments on poems