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I love: 

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Black faced sheep on heathered moors,
Waves that crash on sandy shores,
    Motorways and country lanes;

    Commuters waiting for their trains.

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Hills that rise to touch the clouds;
Football games that draw the crowds;
    Sweet fat rascals, Yorkshire pud -
    Oh yes, the food in Yorkshire’s good!

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Waterfalls and rushing streams.
Men compete in cricket teams.
    Terraced houses, row by row; 
    Gardens where the roses grow.

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Towers ascend from city hearts.
We’ve galleries with works of art.
     Ballet, opera, music, plays,
     Win for Yorkshire lots of praise.

 

Universities and schools,
Tennis clubs and swimming pools;

    There's cricket, golf - oh mind that horse

     For I must remember York Racecourse.   
 
Yorkshire folk?  Oh where to start?
We’ve those that are renowned for art.
     We’ve playwrights, poets by the score;
     We’ve fiction writers and much more.

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We’ve actors, athletes, entertainers,
Social workers and campaigners.
    There must be some I’ve sadly missed
    But you'll have them upon your list.
   
I think that from this poem you’ll see
That Yorkshire’s just the place for me,
     And visitors must be impressed
     And surely say that Yorkshire’s best!

Copyright on all my poems 

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