In Somerset they guide the plough
From early dawn till twilight now.
The good red earth smells sweeter yet,
Behind the plough, in Somerset.
The celandines round last year’s mow
Blaze out . . . and with his old-time vow
The South Wind woos the Violet,
In Somerset.
Then, every brimming dyke and trough
Is laughing wide with ripples now,
And oh, ’tis easy to forget
That wintry winds can sigh and sough,
When thrushes chant on every bough
In Somerset!
(Fay Inchfawn)
More Poetry from Fay Inchfawn:
- A Woman In Hospital (Fay Inchfawn Poems)
- The Daily Interview (Fay Inchfawn Poems)
- The Prize Fight (Fay Inchfawn Poems)
- To A Rebellious Daughter (Fay Inchfawn Poems)
- Homesick (Fay Inchfawn Poems)
- The Little House (Fay Inchfawn Poems)