As poor as a church mouse
in an abandoned town house.
Surrounded by generous trees.
Yorkshireis the bees knees.
The North Yorkshire National Park
in the light and dark.
Gliding through the sky.
A scenic view for which to die.
Slip sliding away the day.
What a journey of play.
Trundling up the hill
to get a blood curdling thrill.
Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
I remember my generous mother.
Reliving my youthful hopes and dreams.
Life is a perpetual glorious scene.