Wherever I may wander, wherever I may roam the greening hills of Lancashire keep calling me back home

I miss the moors of Rosssendale and her villages’ rural charms, with Rawtenstall and Haslingden held fast in beauty’s arms.

The stalwart town of Burnley calls ‘neath hills of East Pennine, Where the hardy race of friendly folk now taste air as sweet as wine .

And up above her brackened slopes the windmills whisper and sway Like sentinels guarding the town below With arms outstretched to pray.

I stand on top of Accrington’s hill the Coppice, now with wooded slope. No chimneys mar the skyline No buildings grimed by smoke.

Yes Hynburn now is beautiful, as I always knew she would be, With greening slopes and purpling moors Blessing Lancashire’s Hill Country.

I dream of bustling Blackburn town, remembering Market Days When pools of lamplight gilding stalls would enchant a young child’s gaze.

Where Darwen Tower raised its proud head defending our heritage and the hillsides blushed with the rowan’s fire ‘til the woodlands were ablaze.

Yes, no matter where I wander, wherever I may roam My own dear Lancashire’s Hill Country will always call me home. -----------------------------

The above Item  is one of many poems and verses  which have  been donated by one of our members (IRENE) which can be seen on our website by joining up and going to POETS CORNER.The above Photo (taken above the Rossendale valley) is one of many which can be veiwed in the PHOTO GALLERY .