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Yorkshire Poems

By Josie Whitehead

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By Josie Whitehead

Ballad of Bolton Priory

Like water flowing down the Wharfe,
    Nine hundred years have streamed
Since when the early monks arrived
    To make a life supreme.

       River Wharfe cruise gently past
      Countryside quite unsurpassed.

In eleven hundred and fifty four
   The Augustinian canons came.
Surrounding hills gave cover from
  The biting cold and rain.

       River Wharfe speed swiftly past
      Countryside quite unsurpassed.

These black-robed priests began to build
    Their shelter from the cold.
Their day would start whilst others slept.
    They worked till dusk, we’re told.

     River Wharfe glide quietly past
    Countryside quite unsurpassed.

They sheltered travellers from the cold,
    Worked hard to farm and care;
They taught God’s word and often prayed
    With others in despair.

     River Wharfe race headlong past
    Countryside quite unsurpassed.

Yet from their income they would share
    With others who had none.
Hunger and poverty were their lot -
    No time for having fun.

     The River Wharfe still courses through
    'Neath Yorkshire hills and skies of blue.

Copyright on my poems 




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