No dressing-down would
Wordsworth bequeath his heir,
Who, unsubtlely, put on the
dead man’s gown, then took
A knee, ‘fore the Queen, who prizes
such submission – it’s good for the show.
Dave Read
Poems
Order should be imposed on my poems, but isn't likely to be until I turn to carpentry, or painting, to carry me through the day. The display here is latest first.