Haworth

Haworth

Nestled deep into Pennine Moors
Where Heights Wuthered
West Riding of White Rose
Jealousy guarded by blackbirds and crows

Enshrouded between swales and hollows
Look over shoulder something follows
Ghosts and ghouls behind you brood
Apothecary intake stifles my mood

In harshest of severe winters
When river banks burst to gloom
Three Hardy sisters named Brontë
Hatched a nom de plume

Currer,Acton and Ellis Bell
Formed as water levels did swell
Women writers surprise 1800's populace
With dashings of feminine grace

In death their fame more grew
Life taken too early more true
Borne from life of drear
Fame and fortune found no panacea

Now their spirits prowl in adversity
Cats and dogs sense extra sensory
Shadowy graveyards protected by rooks
Beautiful Howarth village of spooks

thank you