17-11-2015, 01:29 PM
1
The Suffolks
For King and country they fought.Many for King and country died.
Young men born in the eastern realms,
Bred under wide East Anglian skies.
Strangers to smoky, city streets,
The factory bench, the pitch dark mill.
They did not walk in the halls of state,
Nor tread the corridors of power.
These rose with the sun and worked the soil,
Dark fenland loam or Breckland sand.
They harvested each season's wealth.
Soft summer fruits and sugar beet.
Strong Suffolk Punches pulled their ploughs,
They wore the wool from Suffolk sheep.
The hectares which they called their home
Bore names like'ham', and 'ford', and 'stowe'.
And on each skyline flint-walled towers
Gazed down on these young Suffolk men.
This was the countryside they loved,
And for this countryside they died.
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