They were two young
star crossed lovers,
A romance from his father to hide
A Nineteen year old young Percy
Fled to Scotland with his young Bride
Harriett, a Tavern keeper’s daughter,
And she only just sweet sixteen
And then they fled to Ireland
So now we’ve set the scene
And then to peaceful Devon
Land of cream teas and sea and moor
To spend a while in Lynmouth
And write of Queen Mab and more.
Ah but that was in the long gone by
The age of the romantic and strife
Poems of love and poems of protest
Poems that lasted longer than life |
So into the footsteps, of P.B.S
In the hotel now known by his name
Mrs Hooper’s Woodbine Cottage
Different, but maybe the same.
Still to inspire the lyrical verse
As it nestles down in watersmeet
The harbour, boats and breakwater
The quaint old and cobbled street
It was in the summer, early July
My wife and I came to stay
It was so warm, so welcoming
Just so perfect for our holiday
The weather was sunny and warm
As by Jane and Richard we’re met
The greeting all smiles so genuine
The greeting was warmer yet |
Our room so pleasant so comfy
The atmosphere so tranquil and still
You can just imagine young Percy
Sat there with his paper and Quill
So how can one give an accolade?
Even five stars surely isn’t enough
Everything was just so perfect
Naming it’s best feature, is tough
The food was so good and plentiful
The service was second to none
Nothing, was too much trouble
How sad, when our time was done
Thank you Jane, thank you Richard
We will return next time we are down
Shelley’s hotel is so good
and so special
Surely the jewel in Lynmouth’s crown
phill.j.bridgewater 2013 |