Hi there! Here’s a poem I wrote this evening inspired partly by the beautiful hills of the Lake District, which is where I’ve been holidaying for a week or so. I hope you enjoy.
My feet grow weary not
Of this path I tread, over
Hills and dales, fields and meadows,
Through sun and rain and wind and hail,
I wander ever on;
And though the road is dusty,
And though my limbs may ache;
My heart grows weary not of
Every step I take; mine
Eyes see many wonders, and every one
Is pure, despite all the many wondrous things
I might have seen before; yet
Though I tire not
Of wandering on this road; not
Of the views or beauteous hills,
Not of the sleet or snow;
I sometimes tire of wandering
So constantly alone; but
If your feet don’t tire,
And you won’t weary of my talk,
Then come and share the road with me,
Wherever we may walk.
