Your words are worth a thousand of most folks’
plucked from the mountain air you walk within,
the lake shore which abounds in ancient oaks
the rivers and the valleys in between
The landscape of my youth, and of of my home
enriched your lines through seasons out of time
this sacred landscape I am blessed to roam
rolls off the tongue, bewitched, and rich with rhyme
Tempered with grief, and yet not hardened so
tended with love, as the beloved plot
above which played a girl while slept below
a brother, one of seven, un-forgot
Your words are worth more than their weight in gold:
wonders, which but for them would rest untold
© 2022 experimentsinfiction.com. All Rights Reserved.
Happy Birthday, W.W.!
Experiments in Fiction 
I love how this beautiful landscape and its poetic legacy has inspired you, Ingrid!
LikeLike
Thank you Merril: it’s hard not to be inspired 😊
LikeLike
I can imagine. 😊
LikeLike
IW channeling WW! A beautiful poem and a fine birthday present. Well done! x
LikeLike
Thank you kindly Nick! x
LikeLike
Wonderful reflections both in photo and words. The magic of the landscape is clear in both. (K)
LikeLike
Thank you Kerfe, it is a magical place.
LikeLike
There is a lovely Wordsworth quality about this, Ingrid. Well done. 👏
LikeLike
Thank you Hobbo 🙏
LikeLike
The emotion and landscape present in this poem is stunning! <3
LikeLike
Thank you Jaya 🙏
LikeLike
He has the best name!! Love his pastoral poems and your tribute!
LikeLike
With a name like that, I would imagine it’s hard not to be a poet! Thanks Tricia 😊
LikeLike
True!
LikeLike
This is a wonderful piece, charming Ingrid. Life is all we have to live with all the loving and caring people around us. Really evocative and inspiring a piece it is.
LikeLike
Thank you so much, Lamittan 🙏
LikeLike
Welcome 💖
LikeLike
Ingrid, this is beautifully crafted and such an apt homage! ❤️
Some wonderful poets born in April. 😊
LikeLike
Thank you, Punam! The 23rd, in particular seems to be an important date…
LikeLike
You are welcome! So it is…I owe my love for English language to him. 😊
LikeLike
But did you know Vladimir Nabokov was also born on this date? And Wordsworth died on it!
LikeLike
I did not know about Nabokov but knew that Wordsworth died on it.
LikeLike
Well, Nabokov’s dates are approximate I think because of the different calendar 🤔 Wikipedia says 22.04 😅 Shakespeare also died on 23.04!
LikeLike
That’s close, keeping in mind different time zones.😀
Yes, knew that. 😅
LikeLike
We poets ought to be careful on that day 🤣
LikeLike
😅😂
LikeLike
Ingrid, your birthday tribute poem transported me – to a place, rich in beauty and love. An enchanting connection you have to your land. 💞
LikeLike
The Lake District is indeed such a place! I am glad this spoke to you, Michele 💕
LikeLike
If I ever get to visit, I would love to go for a walk with you. What a treat that would be!
LikeLike
For me also – be sure to bring your camera! 📸
LikeLike
😊 Absolutely! It would be wonderful. 🌄 If you ever get to visit the wild west, I would be happy to be your guide. 🏜️
LikeLike
I would love that, too!
LikeLike
such a worthy tribute to the master!
And that pic is totally awesome Ingrid, kudos
LikeLike
Thank you Kate 😊
LikeLike
most welcome
LikeLike
I always love how you blend nature and humanity, in language, feeling, and imagery. Wonderful poem, Ingrid.
LikeLike
Thank you so much: these were Wordsworth’s trademarks, so I try to emulate them in some small way!
LikeLike
You’re most welcome, Ingrid. You did excellently.
LikeLike
Wonder full. XoXo
LikeLike
Thank you Selma 🥰
LikeLike
Ingrid, what an exquisite photo and a lovely birthday tribute to Wordsworth! A wonderful connection between you and the enchanting lake country is evident in the poem. <3
LikeLike
Thank you, Cheryl, I am glad you enjoyed this ❤️🌸
LikeLike
oh I love this lovely poem and imagery Ingrid!
💖👏👏👏
“Tempered with grief, and yet not hardened so
tended with love, as the beloved plot”
LikeLike