Sunday, 8 June 2014

On this land we love the best

Never in my life have I ever had time to look back and reflect back on how things have changed, until now. We always have worked hard, the harder we work the more we seem to be chasing our own tails, trying to go faster and faster and no better off in the end.
It’s either that or get left behind, and now that I have jumped off the Merry-Go-Round, it’s become very clear that it is a job for the younger generation and time for them to show their metal.

In the distance on the right is the old farm house and farm where we  were brought up, we moved  to The Beeches in 1943  when I was five years old

On this land we love the best

We are watched from way up high, on how we treat our land,
This land that we are caring for, for generations stand,
To stand just where our fathers stood, see it through their eyes,
And how the fields and lanes have looked, neath the clear blue skies.

The misty foggy mornings, dew drops on all the leaves,
The sunrise on the meadows, the bird song in the trees,
Long shadows in the evening, as the sun sets in the west,
Trees and bushes in full bloom, on this land we love the best.

Owd Fred

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