Where Wordsworth had Ullswater,
Dove Cottage and Grasmere,
I look upon the industrial glory
of the Manchester Ship Canal
and the rolling River Irwell.
Where the Romantic poets would
meander through green fields
and hear the nightingale sing
I ramble down graffiti city streets
to the police siren song.
Where the greats would compose
their works with swishing quills
at fine desks in grand writing rooms,
I note ideas on my mobile phone
and scribble away in office lunch-hours.
The Romantics would gaze upon
great beauty, their hearts all a quiver
but to suggest my urban back-drop
is any less charming and poetic
then I would beg to differ.
There\'s poetry in the every-day
in winter dog walks and open fires
the summer beer garden with friends
in funerals, Christenings and whiskey,
and wherever you feel inspired.