David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
A Bright Star
Nearly two hundred years have gone by
When a man left these shores to die
In foreign lands he did go, but on his way
He landed in Lulworth Cove for a day.
What would I have said to him on that beach?
For his gift to the world to me he could teach
In that sweet short stay, in that tiny bay,
He wrote a beautiful sonnet in just a day.
Only to depart in the mist of time gone by
Makes the sadness of his departure cry
But he did what he said he ought
And thought his poetry came to nought.
And entered eternity a Bright Star.
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