Did you know that Wordsworth didn’t wander lonely as a cloud at all? He went out for a walk with his sister Dorothy. Dorothy, being a writer herself, kept a detailed daily journal. Whenever he felt lost for words, William would borrow Dorothy’s journal and leaf through looking for inspiration.
It must have been a day a bit like today . . .
Winter ends – and Spring waits. Impatient as I,
beneath the cold, grey-blanketed and heavy sky
Vague and indistinct we sense the near horizon,
no sun-lit hills bask for us to feast our eyes on.
What adjective of mist drips on the sodden earth?
What noun? What verb, can I use to get my word’s worth?
If Spring came now, could she end these mists eternal?
Hmmm. Today looks like a good day to borrow Dorothy’s journal.
A bit like that, was it Will?
