R
Robert Harrison
Guest
To Bob
You sit and write your poems, my love.
Of lake and tree and turtle dove,
Of Elfin and of Roman hoard
Because it stops you getting bored,
You try them out on all who’ll listen
And wonder why their eyes do glisten
Is it mirth or is it grief
Or is it simply disbelief.
You try your best we know you do
We listen ‘cos we all love you.
You sit and write your poems, my love.
Of lake and tree and turtle dove,
Of Elfin and of Roman hoard
Because it stops you getting bored,
You try them out on all who’ll listen
And wonder why their eyes do glisten
Is it mirth or is it grief
Or is it simply disbelief.
You try your best we know you do
We listen ‘cos we all love you.