Posted by Admin on 3 July 2007, 12:00 am
The corn is cut: its bounty spread
a thwart the threshing floor,
to wait there for the farmer’s wain
to rumble to the mill once more.
That night at eight in ancient barn
there will be served a meal
with roasted pork and home brewed beer
so strong t’would make a giant reel;
but not the men who’ll drink their toasts
to Britain’s Empress Queen, and hosts.
On Sunday in the village church
corn-dollies there will be,
reminders that our daily bread’s
a blessing from our Deity,
the Harvester of Souls for all Eternity.
T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.
This work may not be reproduced without prior permission of the author.
Village
Parish Council