I follow this lady from my photo blog but her ‘Yorkshire’ poetry is wonderful to a tyke and I thought it might be to some of my non-photo followers too. The recent one about grandma might ring bells for some of you – it certainly did for me – though if you need a translation of some bits please ask.

The optimistic pessimist

Bethany is my sister

She lives in my old room

She’s messier than I was

Even though she’s got a vacuum

She likes to sit alone there

In the attic way up high

And think about interesting things

Like what it’s like to fly

She likes to read and read and read

Just like I used to do

But she’d like a box of chocs as much

To munch her way right through

Beth’s a definite animal lover

And animals love her too

But mum and dad cannot believe

She’ll ever clean up their poo

That’s why I have to do it

Though they both said ‘NO!’

I’m smuggling a hamster in

So then they just won’t know

But if it starts to smell there

High up in her room

Mum or dad might storm right up

And bash it with a broom

So Bethany be careful

Make sure you…

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