Wonders of Wight

I saw it on a tea towel,
Many years ago,
The seven wonders of the Wight,
It made us want to go.

Cowes you couldn’t milk, was one,
(Though some have had a go),
Being dry in Lake’s no fun,
With needles that can’t sew.

It got me sort of thinking,
Could this be updated?
What wonders would you choose today,
And how would they be rated?

Red squirrels would be on my list,
And so would sunshine hours,
Perfect bays for Instagram,
A Garden Isle of flowers.

It is a real Adventure Land,
Where stories start to form,
Of wishing stones and pirate bones,
Where dinosaurs were born.

It has to be the countryside,
That rolls down to the sea,
Or the stately home of poets
In Freshwater Bay for me.

So when I come to “cross the bar”
Returning to this space,
I doubt, just like Lord Tennyson,
I’d find a nicer place.

The real wonder of it all,
Is how it stays afloat,
To welcome millions every year,
On holidays by boat.

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