in the lakes
where states of mind are refined
and all it takes is some
relaxation and the definition
of peace is defined.
Years have passed since I sat by the mere or
thought I ought to go back and see
what it all meant to me.
Up there in the lakes where the tourists take
the valleys echo with laughs and
Wordsworth spins in a grave,
I save my sanity on the hills, by a tarn,
where no harm can come to me
and peace is mine
© 2015, John Smallshaw.