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Poetry from within

The Grass of Parnassus

High on the fells of boggy ground

There, the flower of Cumberland’s found.

By the name of bog star

more commonly known

Off the mountain of the gods

your seeds were borne.

On unforgiving windswept hills

You hold sway over marsh and ghylls.

When you glance down

on that Lakeland scene

Do you of Mount Parnassus dream?

Do those barren places you have been

Make poets’ words too precious seem.

Doughty flower of pastel hue

An English county honours you.

Robert Carson